Salvation of an Angel
by Cinnamon Angel
Summary: Tristan is struggling to keep his little sister safe from the continual violence that taints their lives. Trory obviously Rated for abuse and other dark themes, but still funky. R&R!
1. Default Chapter

A/N: This is my first GG story and I'm depending on French channels who decided to stop airing GG even if the first season wasn't finished yet. Anyway, this story is AU, first because I want it to be, second because I'm so not aware of what happens later in the series that I can't possibly write something right about it. Now, this story is ANGST. I've tried to keep Lorelei, Rory and other weirdos of Star Hollow in character. Tristan is totally OOC. Well, not in my mind, since it's a hidden side of what is shown to the world, but well, I know I'll have some critic concerning OOC- ness. This story is about Tristan being abused by a totally lost, drunk and out- of-control father. I don't give a damn if you think it's cliché, you go read the first chapter, you don't like it, drop it, I wouldn't want to be the cause of your waste of time, no need to flame. You like it, WELCOME to my insane little world! Leave me LONG reviews and I'll love you, lol.  
  
Also, this story is dedicated to Meg and Madz. Thank you dear twin sis for beta reading and insane rambling! I love you Meg. Thanks to you Madz cause your story made me post this one, you know what I mean *wink*.  
  
Disclaimer: I own Ria, a box of cookies and a cup full of coffee. Now, if I owned GG, I would have had the pleasure to see more than the first season *pokes French TV people on a fork*, Tristan would still be on the show, Dean would be more interesting (makes me sleep this guy...) and... *sob* Why don't' I own GG?  
  
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Chapter 1: Another day in Hell  
  
The crowded halls of Chilton were filled with teenagers in uniforms hurrying to go home. As always, Rory passed in front of them without a look nor a thought directed to them. They did the same about her and it just seemed alright.  
  
As usual, Rory started to struggle with her locker's lock, to abandon after three minutes and fifteen seconds, ending banging her head on the blasted metallic door.  
  
"Mary, Mary, honestly, don't you know you lose neurons that way?" drawled lazily somebody next to her.  
  
Tristan, as annoying as always. Leaning against the lockers, hands in his pockets, he was smirking, as usual. Rory sighed inwardly at his sight. Why, oh why, was he here? He was always here. As if annoying "Mary" was his only hobby.  
  
"Why do you know that information? It's no use to you; you already don't have any neurons." Rory replied testily, not missing a beat  
  
"Actually, I've still got two or three running around, so I try to spare them as much as I can." he answered with a shrug.  
  
"That must explain the blank stare and the little naps in class."  
  
"Well, if I want to save them to annoy little Mary, I must make choices."  
  
"See, your skull is so empty that the remaining neurons can't even register a four letter name, two of which are actually the same letter..." she added, shaking her head.  
  
Tristan leaned in and whispered in her ear, "What can I say? It's not my fault if they start to frantically waltz in my head when you're around."  
  
And with that, he punched the locker open, smirked at her and turned on his heels to head to the door. *What a player. This guy is so shallow. Another spoiled rich brat to annoy the world, among the thousands that are already loose on Earth. They're like Oompa Loompas, they invade everything,* thought Rory, frowning and rubbing her forehead where it had hit the locker.  
  
She had banged her head quite a few times during the day. Well, it was a typical Chilton day, so you couldn't exactly expect less. Homework, tests, encounters with Paris, books books books piling in her bag, scolding severe teachers, now, Evil One again annoying her, and she didn't know yet, but the gargoyles would be like mocking poor her waiting for the bus, soaked wet by the rain...  
  
*I swear, this bus is late again because of the Coffee gods. They're angry at me because I've only had time to drink one cup this morning. So the bus is late, I won't have time to do all my homework tonight, so tomorrow I won't be able to see Lane and do all my Christmas shopping and- Gee, the bus is arriving!*  
  
Indeed, the bus had arrived and the track of her thoughts had been interrupted. She stepped inside, collapsed in the nearest seat and opened a book, thinking that the rainy and foggy scenery wasn't worth her attention.  
  
......................  
  
First door she stepped through in Stars-Hollow was Luke's. She had decided that the Coffee gods had to be calmed down. Plus, she just needed some coffee after another day in Hell, so she launched herself in the tale, in order to have Luke make her some coffee.  
  
"No," was answered in a firm tone.  
  
"Come on, Luke, you know how my day can be when the Coffee gods are against me!" she said in a pleading tone.  
  
"Well, a typical Chilton day. And when there's no Chilton, you're bound to thank the Coffee gods for it, so I'm supposed to give you coffee all the time, every day. I say no to that. I won't deliberately help you drown further in this addiction," he drawled lazily while handing a steamy cup of the elixir to another customer.  
  
Rory started to bang her head on the counter while Luke was staring at her, eyebrows raised and fingers tapping on this same counter.  
  
"What are you trying to do? Do enlighten me."  
  
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm upset. And when I'm upset, I bang my head. And you have to give me coffee, or I'll continue and as I have already done this quite a few times today, I'll soon have an enormous bump and will tell Mom to blame it on you."  
  
The mug landed as quickly as light in front of her. Whether it was the whole story or just the last comment about Lorelei the reason of his giving in, the girl didn't care at all: she had her coffee.  
  
"A few times?" Luke said, going back to the conversation.  
  
"Paris annoying me all day, homework, tests, conceited teachers, Tristan opening my locker for me and gargoyles mocking me," she replied really fast.  
  
Luke scratched his head in wonder at that.  
  
"How does Tristan doing something nice for once comes in between conceited teachers and gargoyles?"  
  
"Because Tristan, teachers and gargoyles all belong to the Chilton pack, you know, the one that costs us our souls every Friday night, which means baaaad..." said a voice coming from the door.  
  
"Hey Mom."  
  
"Hey Mini-Me. So what has Spawn of Satan done today to be listed between gargoyles..." she raised an eyebrow, frowned and finally added "And gargoyles?"  
  
"He opened her locker for her," said Luke with a dramatic sigh.  
  
"No. He couldn't have! How dared he open your locker when you were at the point of punching it? He spoiled all your fun! I'm gonna phone his mom, it's absolutely-"  
  
"Mom," said Rory sternly, a hint that Lorelei didn't seem to catch.  
  
"Unbelievable. No education at all. I mean, who taught him manners. Opening a locker for someone in difficulty, that's downright low! And rude!"  
  
"Thank you Mom, I think we've caught your point..." cut Rory, slightly embarrassed by the turn the talk was taking. If there was something she hated, it was certainly having her Mom defending Tristan.  
  
She took her bag and headed for the door, waving goodbye to Luke and Lorelei, already in the middle of a heated argument about coffee.  
  
When she finally arrived home, she took off her uniform, threw it in the bathroom, and changed in some jeans and a long-sleeved purple t-shirt. After having made another cup of coffee, she headed to the dining-room table and started to take out books and notes out of her bag. *two hours before Grand-Ma's dinner,* she thought. But in the middle of her history notes, something caught her attention. A sheet that wasn't covered in her writing but another script.  
  
*Oh no. Tell me it's not what I think it is...*  
  
Rory was perfectly remembering who was seated next to her during that class. The urge to again use the table to get a headache deepened: she had taken some of Tristan's notes with her.  
  
*Damn, I'm going to have to phone him for that.* She growled out loud at it. This day was really improving.  
  
....................  
  
She looked up in the Chilton directory to find his name and phone number and dialled it hesitantly.  
  
"Charles Dugrey," answered a cold voice at the other end.  
  
"Good evening, Sir. I'm Rory Gilmore. May I speak to Tristan please?" said Rory, not very comforted by the voice.  
  
"My son isn't home. Do you want to leave a message?"  
  
"Huh, yes. Would you mind telling him that I have found some of his History notes in my things and that I can drop them tonight if he needs them."  
  
"No, it will be alright. You can give them back on Monday. Have a nice evening."  
  
Rory stared in bewilderment at the phone that had been hung up right in her face.  
  
"Nice man, welcoming, warm. Could melt the snow," she sarcastically said to nobody... Who actually answered.  
  
"Who was this gentleman?"  
  
Rory jumped about three feet in the air before mentally slapping herself for having let Lane scare her that much.  
  
"Mr Charles Dugrey, also known as Satan, Spawn of Satan's father" she finally replied, faking a snotty British accent.  
  
"Would you be talking about your dear Tristan's father?  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"Like in Evil Tristan?"  
  
"You couldn't be more right."  
  
"Care to elaborate why you phoned him in the first place?" exclaimed Lane while jumping on the couch.  
  
"Chilton business," scolded Rory, replaying the phone call in her head and sharing it with Lane. She couldn't believe somebody could be that conceited and snobbish. *Well, like son, like father,* she stated while collapsing on the couch next to Lane. *No, in fact, it doesn't work at all. As much of a jerk Tristan is, he's certainly not as icy as his father.* She was remembering the conceited tone, the way he didn't even seem to know where his son was and how it didn't really matter to him.  
  
She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't even realised Lane was trying to get her attention by waving madly in front of her. After three minutes, Lane just poked her hard in the ribs.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are we going Christmas shopping tomorrow, and is Dean coming too?"  
  
"Yes to both." Rory grinned at the thought. It would be nice. Walking in Hartford, hands full of bags, laughing, people joyously walking around. They would drink a lot of coffee, maybe they would even have time to go to the movies or something. Dean had dumped her a few weeks ago, but they were now like best friends. Rory couldn't exactly hold a grudge for a long time, and she really had wished to stay friends with him. So they had tried, and were now known as a very close trio, with Lane.  
  
"Twister?" asked Rory, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"You bet!" shouted Lane while retrieving the game box from under the couch and preparing the board.  
  
  
  
"So you had lost your History notes?" said Charles Dugrey dryly.  
  
"Yes," was all Tristan could get out. He knew it wasn't any use to lie or to seek excuses, the man would just not listen.  
  
"You should care about your things boy. They could have been really lost and you could have had a test on Monday about this. I don't accept failure, you know that. Once again, you're disappointing me. You're supposed to be responsible, and this proves me the contrary. I suggest you get out of my sight before I lose my self-control. I trust you have homework to do."  
  
The "discussion" was over, and the elder man left the room. Tristan headed to his room, under the roof. He could have had any big room anywhere else in the house, but he had taken this one. It was just an attic he had fixed quite by himself, but it was warm and cosy, unlike the rest of the house. It was his shelter. Nobody ever came here, except for Ria, his six year-old sister.  
  
Tristan sat at his messy desk and started to work. He was too glad to have escaped his father's tantrum to complain about the mountain of homework the teachers had given.  
  
..................  
  
A few hours later, he was still working. He had skipped dinner, he knew better than facing his father. Actually, he hadn't even bothered to move at all: he was aware that the man would have sent him back there without dinner.  
  
The door opened slowly to let appear Ria, who was carrying a plate. She smiled at him and put it on the desk. She then climbed in his lap to look at what he was doing.  
  
"What's that?" she asked in a disgusted tone.  
  
"Biology," answered Tristan, really bored by the topic of study he was looking at.  
  
"How do they know what's in the frog?"  
  
"They've opened it."  
  
Ria turned around to see if her brother was joking, but she could tell he wasn't.  
  
"Erk."  
  
"Yep, very erk..."  
  
Tristan closed the book and leaned back in his chair, letting the little girl snuggle against him. He could hear her breathe as she was slowly falling asleep, and it was bringing peace to him. He stayed like that a long time, stroking Ria's curly hair while listening at the rain on the roof. When he finally decided to go to sleep, he couldn't resolve himself to go down and put Ria in her bed, so he just placed her under his covers and lied next to her. Sleep came quickly, rain was the lullaby.  
  
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :: Ok, you know what you have to do now, huh? I guess you're intelligent enough to figure it out by yourself, except if you have banged your head too many times in your life... I leave you to it! *points madly in the direction of the review button* *innocent smirk* 


	2. morning thoughts, cookies and dark eveni...

A/N: Hello everybody who reviewed! And the ones who arrive in the story, lol. Whoa, I'm impressed, I didn't expect to receive so many reviews for one chapter! You're wonderful! Let me explain my habits: I love to reply to reviews... it's actually rather scary how long my replies can get (for anyone who wants to see an insane amount of rambling, check out the latest chapter of my HP story, the replies are just... well, no comment). All this to say, don't worry about writing very long reviews, you would entertain me by doing so! Lol.  
  
Jesika090: thanks for loving my style, it means a lot when people actually say they love the way I write and not just my ideas. I update, I update! There will be much more! I'm a sucker for very long stories...  
  
Sabrine: Well, I hope you'll like whatever is coming! SARCASM RULES! Muahahahaha... there's no such thing as sarcasm! Lorelei is funny, but Rory... there's this sarcasm thing that Lorelei doesn't have, it's great!  
  
GOOFYGIRL: welcome to my insane little world, goofygirl! I like your name, lol. I'll really try to update frequently, I hope it'll be approximatively once a week but I can't promise anything.  
  
Fire'N'Ice: OMG, I can't believe you reviewed it when you already have ranted in emails about the whole chapter for like weeks, lol. And made some insane comments, too. I'm sorry I've been obliged to keep them out of the text, I love them... Well, if Madz doesn't read the reviews, you've just been talking to no one again, it's really no new thing, lol. NO, not the TSAD story! *rocks back and forth* Draco is NOT evil, you hear me? It's wrong! Alec, please, screw! *sheepish smile* ARGH... you're awful. Of course we rule everything, hmmpf! We're the TWIN RULERS! Muahahahahaha... Ok, movin' on *innocent smirk*  
  
Jazz14: yep, poor Tristan. You can say it. You're gonna say it again. And again. Sry! *evil grin* this fic is honestly not going on the happy path, well, not for now... Anyway, speaking about something else: I'm updating! Hurrah, the flags fly high on the mast... *insane grin*  
  
Smile1: Hey! How are you! I hope you update your story soon, I'm getting rather impatient, lol. I've read your profile and there's something very wrong. You do NOT lack talent! You hear me? So you're gonna change that profile of yours and say that Almighty Cinnamon Angel says that you have talent! Go now! Thanks for saying my writing is excellent, I hope it is around good, you're flattering me...  
  
Chilton Puff: oh oh... so you think you know, huh? Go figure, I know that plot is predictable! But I still hope you're going to like it. I write more, I write more... he he he!  
  
Professional Scatterbrain: I love that part too! I think you're gonna like Lorelei's part in this chapter... Well, at least I hope so! Oh, I've just gone to see your profile and I see you have Katie/Oliver stories! I've to read them, I had a craving for these stories yesterday. Gonna check them out tonight...  
  
MaryAnne: you thought well, I'm French, and I've never lived in an English speaking country. Lol, I'll ask her, but she's stubborn, he he he... What scenes do you think are rushed? It would help if you could point them out so I can work on that.  
  
Lildevil: thanks for the comments, I'll try to improve the awkward sentences thing, I hope I can. I post, I post... lol. I'll try to post a chapter a week, I hope I manage to.  
  
iHEARTlucasscott: Yep, Ria is Tristan's lil sis... Oh, a coffee addict! I love you! I'm generally waaaay too caffeinated for my friends to follow me in my insanity, he he he! Oh, I've just seen in your profile that you're becoming enthralled with Draco/Ginny pairing... It's my fav one in HP, they belong together!  
  
Madz: God, I couldn't believe that you reviewed! I mean, you've already ranted a lot about it... He he he, you couldn't help it, huh? Telling them all that you had the special privilege of reading it in advance. It wasn't my first one, but well, you've got the longest one so far! I'm writing SOAA 4! I'm just in the beginning for now, but I've got ideas. I loved your comments on chapter 3 though, it made me laugh. Update LS before I go insane! Duh, I told you it would be dedicated to you! Merci pour ton support! TRORY FOREVER!  
  
Anonymous-reviewer-who-hasn't-left-any-name: Thanks! I love Ria to death, I think she's the best character I've created so far! I'm updating, and I hope you find your way back to this story!  
  
Disclaimer: Today, I own only Ria. *sob* there's no more cookies in the damn house. Oh, but soon, I'll own a cup of tea too! Now, I'm still desperately deep in Neverland, where I own Tristan, but I guess I'm in a hopeless situation. *sigh*  
  
A/N again: Sorry again about any mistake, awkward sentences etc. I'm French, annoying and stubborn. Other than that, I hope you like it! Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you! I'm sorry if you don't like the pov switching, I like to use it in my fics.  
  
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Chapter two: morning thoughts, cookies, and dark evenings.  
  
*Tristan pov*  
  
When I wake up in the morning, it's only 5. I don't sleep much, it only gives me nightmares, and when I'm awake, laying in bed just brings too many thoughts that I try to push in a corner of my mind the rest of the day. Memories, mostly. Past hurts too much to be moved again. But it always happens. In the morning, my mind roams through them, making them move, animate. Things come up again, it haunts me. So even if it's bloody early, I get up.  
  
Ria still sleeps peacefully. I'm glad that she can. I put all my energy in that. I so want her to have a different life from me. I want to get her out of this place before I see the flicker in her eyes extinguish. Damn, I'm getting emotional now, it's not a good thing. It's Saturday, there's no school to get out of here. Nothing to change my mind. Two days to haunt this cold house.  
  
We're nearly in the middle of December. Like always around this time of the year, everything is crashing down. I used to love this time of the year, with the joy filling the air and the snow finally coming. I used to walk in the fields with my mom. I used to do so many things that are obsolete for me now. I hate it now. The ephemeral snowflakes that die in my hand remind me of what I've lost. Mom. A mere memory, fading away in the mist of my mind. It seems such a long time that she left. It was a 16th December. Ria's birth.  
  
And I've held on her life to stay on the surface. I feel like I'm soon going to drown in the icy waters of pain if I lose her. My little sister, my sunshine. It seems rather pathetic. But my life is pathetic. A lie, a huge act. A made-up tale for the oh so great Chilton society. I can't help laugh bitterly when I recall a few things that I heard. "Tristan always has it the easy way." "Yeah, always had anything he wanted." "Gee, I switch places with him whenever he wants." Damn, you want my place, you can get it. Free of charges. I'm so sick of it. If it wasn't for Ria, I wouldn't already be there anymore.  
  
Sometimes I still cry when I think back of the times when Mom was there. When Dad still loved me. When we were a family and all had sense. But it's all gone, and Dad blames it on Ria. He makes her cry with his horrible comments on how we were happy before her. And I stand for her. Then it all breaks down and violence gets up. When the scattered dish across the room screams his anger. When his kicks make me cough blood on the kitchen floor.  
  
I'm so worried he might do that to Ria. I already hate when she's there when I happen to be beaten, so I don't think I could bear her being hurt by him. Two more years and I can leave. Then I take her with me, and we never come back in this hell. Two bloody years. It seems like two centuries instead, but it's the only way. I have to save my little angel.  
  
I try to think what could bring us out of this hellhole. Dad is going to drink all day long, mourning over the loss, and eventually will become violent. I try to avoid being at home as much as possible at this time of the year. But on the other hand, I don't know where to hide. The Christmas joy everywhere around makes me want to throw up. We never had a decent Christmas after Mom's death. Ria doesn't understand why we don't, and it hurts her when her little schoolmates share their holidays and compare what they got for the occasion. I always offered her something, but Christmas is not just presents.  
  
When Ria gets up, she asks me if we can go to the Mall. I don't want to. I hate the crowd, I hate it during Christmas period. I feel opressed and I've got a nagging pain in my stomach. But I can't say no to Ria; I know she has me wrapped around her finger, but what can I say, I love her more than everything. We leave quite early. I don't leave any message for Dad: he doesn't care.  
  
When we get there, the crowd is already dense. Ria drags me everywhere, she's excited by all the colours and the chattering. I smile at her and hold on, it could be far worse, we could have stayed home. Near the end of the afternoon, I finally manage to make her sit down somewhere to have a hot chocolate. That's when I spot her. Rory Gilmore. She's with her mother, bagboy and that other girl, Lane, I think. They are all happy and seem to laugh endlessly. I envy them. I can't help bitterness to come back.  
  
"Do you know them?" asks Ria with her mouth full of cookie. I turn back my attention to her.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The people who laugh over there," she says, pointing in the direction of Rory.  
  
"Yeah. The girl with the long brown hair is in my year at school."  
  
"Why don't you go and say hello, then?"  
  
I smile at her. "She hates me."  
  
Ria looks at me awestruck. "How can she? Nobody can hate you! You're the nicest brother on Earth!" with that, she slips from her seat and head in their direction. Oh no, Bloody hell! I run after her and manage to catch her just before she reaches the group. However, she squeaks and it makes them look back.  
  
"Hello Tristan," says Rory, rolling her eyes. Dean stares at me with contempt, Lane with an amused expression and Rory's mother with wide eyes. Ria grins evilly at me as she slips her hand in mine.  
  
"Hey."  
  
I receive a kick in the ribs and look down at a frowning Ria. "Is that all? Can't you think of anything else?" she then turns to Rory. "I'm Ria. Tristan's sister. Sorry for him, he lacks conversation." It's my turn to roll my eyes at her, but I'm quite amused. I would nearly forget my sullenness.  
  
Rory laughs. "Well, nice to meet you, Ria; I'm Rory. Don't worry, I'm used to your annoying brother."  
  
"Ok, we have to go," I say quickly before Ria can start on the hatred topic. "See you on Monday, Mary. And don't forget my history notes." I smirk as we turn to leave. When we're outside, Ria looks at me with her eyebrows raised. "Why do you call her Mary? I thought her name was Rory." I laugh at that as we head to the car that will get us back to Ice palace.  
  
............................................................................ ........................  
  
*Lorelei's pov*  
  
And here we are, facing a gorgeous boy and then, Rory drawls lazily a plain "Hello Tristan". At that, my mind races. I didn't know my brain cells could be so active in fact. Tristan. As in Chilton's evil king? The boy that has been annoying my daughter since she started to attend that medieval torture chamber? How in Brad Pitt's name can she have forgotten to tell me that he was that handsome?  
  
We head for some coffee and sit down on a bench. I still can't get over the fact that Rory forgot to mention such an important detail. I don't think I've ever seen more beautiful blue eyes.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
And how he was with his sister! I can't imagine this boy being cocky and a snobbish little prat. Surely, he has a strange behaviour. Maybe he's from another planet and his customs are different? Ah ah, maybe he is ET's little brother. Or he is a StarTreck actor on the loose...  
  
"MOM!"  
  
I snap from internal rambling as Rory shouts at me.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you ok? You haven't said anything since we met Spawn of Satan. It's rather freaky."  
  
"Ah ah, let's speak about him, by the way! Haven't you failed to tell me something really fundamental about him? Huh? But who gave me such a deceitful daughter?" I add in a melodramatic tone. The three kids all look at me as if I needed a padded room. I hold my coffee spoon high in the air while answering at my own question.  
  
"Well, maybe that he so looks like a Greek god that he could be worshipped by Hartford's whole feminine population?"  
  
Rory rolls her eyes at me as Dean and Lane snicker in their coffee paper cups.  
  
"Mom, it's Tristan you're rambling about." She replies in a bored tone. I hit her on the nose with my spoon.  
  
"Exactly, Tristan, with pacific blue eyes, perfect complexion, divine body, and a smile that would make the North Pole's ices melt in five seconds!"  
  
"Mom, ice never takes a plural form." My unreliable daughter counters coolly. A sudden urge to bang my head on something hard invades me.  
  
:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:°:° :°:°:  
  
When Tristan and Ria arrived at the house, it was all silent. Nothing could be heard, like all life was silenced by a cold blanket along the deserted halls of the mansion. Suddenly the sound of a glass crashing echoed through the rooms. Shuffled steps could be heard coming quickly toward the two kids and Tristan kneeled down in front of his sister.  
  
"Listen to me, Ria. You go to your room, and you lock the door. Don't open it to anyone but me. Go now!"  
  
The little girl started to run toward the staircase and disappeared after a last look at her brother. She was aware of what would happen to him, but she was too scared to argue. The boy waited till he heard the lock of her door upstairs. The steps were now close. Tristan's heart was racing. He knew that his father had drunk at least two bottles of whiskey; he knew that the evening would be spent trying to patch himself up; he knew his day wasn't exactly improving. A loud crash emanated from the other side of the door. 'Probably another vase we won't have to clean anymore,' thought a worried Tristan.  
  
The door was finally smashed open by a drunk and angry Charles Dugrey. The man was panting and his face was red. Tristan took a step backward, unconsciously.  
  
"You! Where is Victoria? Little monster, she killed her, she killed my Angela. But you protect her! I hate you, you hear me. Both of you will end in Hell. IN HELL!" the man howled, spiting in his rage.  
  
The following minutes were atrocious. Like always, Tristan tried to get away from the dangerous man. Like always, he tried to stand against him, but it was no use. Charles Dugrey was built like a tank while Tristan was rather thin. Like always, the teenager ended being thrown against a wall and then sprawled on the floor. Once he was in this position, he knew he was lost. Kicks and punches would break on his body, cracking his ribs, bruising his skin, scratching his flesh. Tristan could only pray that his father was too drunk to think about his belt and the way he could use it against the boy. But of course, Charles Dugrey still had enough conscience to remember what would hurt his son most. The leather belt, with the silver carved buckle.  
  
At each whip, Tristan winced. He could feel his back be torn, the blood drip from the wounds. The burning of the torn tissues. He already had suffered it many times, but each beating always seemed worse than the last one. Like he was becoming weaker after each blow. He buried his head in his hands to hide his tears. Biting his lip harder and harder till his mouth was full of blood, as the belt came into contact with his skin. He shut his eyes tightly as if it would stop the pain from rushing through his body. But it only brought some images to his mind. Images of a warm mall, filled with happy people. The lights illuminating the colourful alleys. The taste of hot chocolate, the smell of Ria's favorite cookies. A laughing girl with brown hair and blue eyes surrounded by an equally laughing group. All Tristan could see was Rory Gilmore laughing with her mother and it was at least as painful as the leather tearing his back.  
  
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I told you it wasn't going to be the happiest fic. Well, you liked it, then REVIEW! You see that lavender button on the left bottom corner of your screen? You only have to click on it, that's all... then, RAMBLE! 


	3. Crimson hands, graphology and Savior Par...

A/N: Hello everybody! I'm in a very good mood. First because I passed some English presentation this morning, second because I finally got to see a One Tree Hill episode. I worship Kazaa, I really do, lol. anyway... On with the replies, I'm sure you want to read them *cough* Just a comment: If you're looking for a really EXCELLENT AU story, check out Lost souls by Madz. It's one of my favourite GG stories, it's more than awesome.  
  
Someone 2 lazy to sign in: Sorry, I should have described her. I promise I will. She's Tristan-like, I guess. Lol, blue eyes, definitely! Technically, as I live in Switzerland, German is supposed to be my second language and English my third... I'm kinda messed up, lol.  
  
Emz-008: hope this chapter feeds your curiosity even more, lol.  
  
Kellene: thanks for your review! I hope you'll like this chapter!  
  
Whoa: Lol, yep, Mr Dugrey is not the nicest guy on Earth... Afraid that it'll continue. *sheepish smile*  
  
CaNaDiAn CuTiE1: why do people stick with the one cap one other letter thingy for their names? It's annoying to write, lol. I update, I update, don't stress me out!  
  
Ally: I update when I can, sorry! He he he... No, really, I try to update as much as I can!  
  
Madz: Lol, of course you're always the last one to know, he he he. Gonna send next chapter tonight, check it out! I like angst, what can I say? Bubbly fluffy stories drive me mad, lol. Yep, I know, I'm already mad. Believe me, I can't believe I've got so many reviews! *twirl* Lol, don't worry, as long as I go to archaeology courses, I'll have time to write. *innocent smirk*  
  
Jalna: Lorelei rules it all! I always wondered how she would react when meeting Tristan and yep, that's exactly how they see him, and it's not the truth, he he he... Very interesting review there, I like it! Of course Tristan is not a good guy, he would be him if he was (do I make any sense?) For now, he doesn't care about Rory, he only cares about Ria, she's gonna play a very important role in the story because she's sort of the catalyser of his emotions. It's all focused on her.  
  
Elena7: Hello! *waves madly* Awh. poor you, it sucks! I've never gotten to see the later eps, but I know that I don't like Jess, he he he... I want you to update your One Tree Hill story! I need it, I crave for it... *crawls in front of you*.  
  
Jazz14: yep... we CMM lovers can go so hopeless, lol. Lorelei is definitely weird. Dean... Well, he didn't have a big part in it, but I want Ria to yell at him once, would be funny. I think he was just amused to see Rory's reaction, and since he's not with her anymore, well, couldn't possibly play the annoying jealous boyfriend, right?  
  
MaryAnee: I keep them coming... here's the next one!  
  
Smile1: well, out of two chapters, I guess you can't really tell which one is better, but I've got a soft spot for chapter 2, don't know why. Talent. Such a subjective thing, but thanks for the compliment, I hope I won't disappoint you!  
  
Xoxo-cmm-xoxo: Nice name! he he. Of course Ria is adorable, she's my creation. Sorry, bighead mode *impish grin* and Tristan is just... Tristan, which is very good, he he he.  
  
Professional scatterbrain: Glad you laughed at Lorelei, it was supposed to be funny! Awh! But who said Tristan was a selfish jerk all the time? We've already seen that he isn't! Have to mention again my love for Tristan.  
  
Angel Monroe: I know I know, my English could use some work, but well, the content is more important, right? *sheepish smile* I'm not a wise person, and I like to answer to reviews. Besides, I've already told them, so they won't be too surprised, right? A/N are fun!  
  
Coffeechick87: What? No ramble? Shame on you, you're not a Lorelei, lol. I hope you're at least full of coffee instead!  
  
Goofygirl: Magnifique, j'suis impressionnée, vraiment... Cool, j'peux répondre tout en français ! He he he! J'update, j'update, faut pas s'affoler. Dis, c'est pas du français d'école ça, tu viens d'où? Continue de « reviewer » et je continue de « updater » cheers.  
  
Disclaimer: not only I don't own Tristan, but I also don't own GG. Why is the world so unfair to me? *pout* hmmpf, I guess I now crawl back into my hole and let you read, right? *sob* REVIEW!  
  
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Chapter 3:  
  
The little girl was curled up on her bed, rocking back and forth. She could hear the noise coming from downstairs, the vase crashing, her brother's body being thrown in the wall, his cries of pain, his begs and her father's shouts. Ria tried to cover her ears to block the nightmare out, but she knew what was happening to Tristan. She started to sob uncontrollably as she heard his first cry. Tristan was everything to her and she couldn't bear him being hurt. He was always here to protect her, but he had nobody to protect him and she felt terrible for that. Their father's words were eloquent enough to make her understand that everything was her fault. She had killed her mom, and now, Tristan was being hurt because of her. Ria always thought that if she had money and were older, she would run away so Tristan would be safe again. But she was a hopeless six year-old little girl.  
  
She cried for a long time, even when the noise had stopped. She was scared to go down and find Tristan. She was frightened that one day she would find him dead and that she would be left all alone with Dad. Shuffled footsteps could now be heard coming toward her bedroom. Ria tensed on her bed and stopped rocking. Was it their father who would try to open the door and scream? Or would it be Tristan? She closed her eyes again and prayed all she could that it was Tristan. Finally, she heard a knock on her door and heard her brother whisper to let him in. She rushed to open the door and let Tristan take her in his arms. When she put her own arms around his neck, she felt the blood soaked shirt and his heart beating fast, but she didn't care: he was there for her.  
  
He took her up to his room. Ria liked that place a lot, it was so different from the rest of the freezing mansion. When he put her down, she sat on his bed and looked at him. He was bloodied and bruised and had a gash going along his eyebrow. The blood rolling on his cheek was mixed with tears. He looked back at her and tried to smile to cheer her up. She didn't fall for this trick, she had seen him beaten too many times. She watched him carefully remove his shirt and clench his teeth as he felt the cloth stick to the wounds. Breathing shallowly, he sat on the floor and Ria took a towel and water to clean his injuries. She loved taking care of him in those moments. She felt like the roles were finally reversed and that it was her turn to protect him.  
  
When she was finished with the wounds cleaning, she threw the towel away as Tristan gingerly got up. The boy was feeling dizzy, his head was spinning and he just collapsed on his bed. Ria was worried. He hadn't shown such weakness when he had taken her in his arms before. Tristan, on his side, was feeling terrible. The pain in his chest was excruciating it was slowly killing him. He still had the images of this afternoon running in his head, making him feel more miserable than he already was. Looking at his little sister was like the final shot. Seeing her, standing there with her little hands all crimson and dry tears on her face was unbearable. He started to cry, unable to look strong in front of Ria anymore. She stayed with him again that night, cuddled against him and holding his hand.  
  
.................................  
  
*Rory's pov* It's around 8 pm, we're nicely having a coffee at Luke's and Mom is still rambling about Tristan. I'm slowly reaching the point where I start to plot a way to make her shut up definitively and drastically. For now, I can block her out, since it's Luke who's being told the whole story about our encounter with Spawn of Satan.  
  
"So, you see, Luke. It seems that Rory hasn't mentioned that important factor. I want a hell that involves gorgeous guys too."  
  
"You've already said that three times," Luke sighed, his hands tapping on the counter.  
  
"I know. You generally fill my cup when I say that, in a desperate attempt to make me shut up. How can you take all this so peacefully? My daughter lives a hell with an Adonis and I'm stuck with MICHEL!"  
  
"My hell is Lorelei-ish."  
  
Mom sighs. "See, everybody's lucky but me."  
  
I can't help snicker at Luke watching Mom with aggravation. Fake aggravation, should I say. Everybody knows that he loves his little hell, deep down. Of course, my snicker gets their attention and while Luke stares at me with a look that clearly pleads me to make her get out, Mom comes again to the topic of his history notes, for like the sixth time, I've to add.  
  
"See Rory, if we send them to a graphologist, they can tell us what his personality is. I've already done that with Kirk once, it was funny. I could write a book on Kirk now: "Kirk the Unstable". They said he was psychologically in a precarious state, that he was negative and falling in love with impossible women to reach, namely me, he he he. I swear, graphology is the best science ever. I bet I would have been more attentive than in Chem, I mean, who wants to know about the little things twirling around another little thing, you know, that complicated diagram on your sciences book cover. but now, maybe Tristan likes Chem, you never know. Well, it would be annoying, I don't want my girl to go out with boys who will finish with blown up hair in a lost lab. Gee, I nearly forgot to tell you about his hair, Luke! He's got blonde tousled hair, you just want to roam through it with your hand, and I bet it's really silky and-"  
  
"Lorelei, last time I checked, I didn't care about guys' hair. Rory, make her go!" I swear, Luke is on the edge of falling to his knees in front of me.  
  
"I'll go only if I have another cup of coffee." Mom grins evilly.  
  
"No, you've already taken advantage of my current weakness for too long. Now, OUT, I don't want Miss Patty to hear about that Tristan guy and she's coming this way."  
  
"Mmmmh. I think I'll stay then. Till you fill the cup. My next topic will be Tristan's attitude toward his little sister."  
  
It's quite amazing how a cup can be magically filled when you say the right words. I finally manage to drag Mom out of Luke's. I guess it's going to be a very very long weekend. I can already see myself being buried under rambling about Tristan every day till the end of my miserable life. Why did he have to be at the mall today? I'm going to hate the coffee gods for that forever. Why couldn't he stay at home? On the walk, Mom is again on the topic about graphology. I don't listen, I know there's nothing to discover about him.  
  
..............................  
  
*Sunday morning*  
  
I wake up at the sound of somebody in my room. I hear mom softly swear when she knocks into my desk. I remain still and open my eyes a bit. I can see her between my eyelids searching through the papers on my table. It's not exactly difficult to figure out what she went on a crusade in my mess for.  
  
"Mom, Tristan's notes are in my bag." I lazily mumble and roll on my side to hide my smile. When I'm calm enough to show her a neutral face, I roll to face her again. She stands sheepishly in front of my bed, dressed all in black, with sunglasses and black gloves. I can't help raise my eyebrow at the sight of her.  
  
"Why on Earth are you wearing that outfit?"  
  
"To put myself in James bond's mode, you silly. I'm on a secret mission to steal documents that have to be analyzed by the government's experts in-"  
  
"Graphology, by any chance?"  
  
She plops on my bed as her grin widens.  
  
"You're a smart girl, you should join CIA. Then you would let me in the headquarters, and I would meet handsome spies and I would get to go in fancy parties, it would be great!"  
  
"Mom, you already go in fancy parties, and you systematically get absolutely bored. Now, be a nice girl, go and fetch us coffee. And for everybody's sake, get over that Tristan obsession!"  
  
"But Rory, imagine if Tristan wants to join the CIA! You'd have to start and train!" she whines.  
  
My only reaction to this is to collapse on my bed and hide my head under my pillow. I don't want to be tomorrow night, when I'll come back from school and will have a manic mother jumping up and down on my bed to know how my encounter with my torturer was. It amuses her greatly that I'm tortured, it's morbid. The smell of coffee makes me throw my pillow away and get up. Mom is still wearing her black outfit with her gloves; I hope she doesn't ask me to put the same clothes on and that we don't go out for a tour downtown, running and holding fake guns. And I pray nobody complained about Mom's behaviour in front of Miss Patty, I don't exactly need to have her come and ramble with Mom. Tristan really makes my life a living hell even when he's not around.  
  
"So, what do you want to do today? Shall we go to Hartford and find the house of that gorgeous-"  
  
"Mom, shut up before I make you do so." I close my eyes and sigh heavily.  
  
"Tell me you have a vision of Tristan and that you sigh of content."  
  
All I can do is growl in frustration and head back to my room. How am I supposed to go through that day? Chilton seems nearly HEAVEN next to that nightmare! I find the phone under a pile of magazines and dial Lane's number, but I remember that we're Sunday morning and that Lane is probably at the mass right now. I then dial Deans' number, but the only answer I get is his sister saying that he's gone all day with Samantha. I don't like that girl, it's her fault if I'm stuck with Mom all day.  
  
When I go back in the kitchen to fill my mug again, Mom is writing. I look at her from the corner of my eye, and figure out that she's making a list. I roll my eyes once more when I read the title at the top of the page. "Tristan's good and bad points". And it seems that the "bad" column is nearly empty while the "good" column is over full of scribbling. I grab the phone again and dial Paris' number. I'm really desperate.  
  
"Paris Gellar"  
  
"Thank God, you're here! It's Rory Gilmore. Pray tell me that you do nothing today."  
  
"I do some schoolwork."  
  
"Amen, emergency situation. Can I come over to work with you? Or we can go to the library. Whatever you want, but pleeeeeaaaase, don't leave me in that hell."  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
"My mom met Tristan."  
  
I hear her chuckle at the other end. Paris chuckling can come quite a shock since it's exceptional.  
  
"I know what you mean. I'm glad my mother met him when we were too young too be settled with each other. I'll wait for you in the public library, contemporary history section, row 5." And she hangs up the phone. Typically Paris, but I'm so relieved that I can't condemn her harshness. I'll owe her forever. I meet Mom in the kitchen again. She's finished with her list and is currently pinning it on a wall.  
  
"Mom, I spend the day with Paris, we have to work. I'll be in Hartford, in the library."  
  
"Great, maybe you'll meet Tristan! Have a nice day, don't work too much! I'm off to annoy Luke."  
  
"Mom, are you really going to go out clad in this thing?"  
  
"Naturally. If I meet and older Tristan, I want him to fall on his knees in front of my wild and mysterious beauty."  
  
I roll my eyes again and go to pack my things. I just hope spending the day with Paris will be less horrible than with Mom. Even if it's only a tad bit.  
  
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Now be nice and press the review button. Lorelei-ish rambling if you do. *innocent smirk* 


	4. Precious Stained Snowflakes

A/N: Hey everybody! God, I'm so sorry about the delay! Things were a bit screwed for me lately and it's only yesterday night that I found time to write. This chapter hasn't been beta-read, deal with it! Anyway, I hope you're not too angry with me *hides behind computer* and that you'll enjoy this chapter! Again, really really sorry, I expect that next chapter will come sooner! And on with the replies! Thanks for your reviews, they brighten my day!  
  
IMPORTANT! If you want to receive an email when I update, please send an email to me! My address is displayed in my profile!  
  
RachelGreen3: I guess you're very angry with me since I didn't continue ASAP! Hope you can forgive me, he he he... *sheepish smile*  
  
Ali: oh... Do you mean that my story isn't sweet anymore? I try to do my best tot keep a certain balance between sweetness and angst! Hope I succeed. Anyway, don't worry about me writing more, I love writing that story, I love long stories... Loads of chapter to come! Check it out!  
  
Coffeechick87: Yeah, you're horrible, I don't think I'll ever forgive you for not having reviewed... *shakes head in disbelief* it's alright, maybe I should post more regularly and people would read my story regularly. Ha ha ha... You'll see, but a lot of prying from Rory's side is going to come!  
  
Kellene: I continue, I continue... Not ASAP, but well, at least, I continue, huh? Hope you'll like this chapter as much as the last one!  
  
Madz: Hey you! I sent you an email this time since you're always complaining that you don't know when I post... I hope you feel special. No my dear, three chapter and 40 reviews! I can't believe it, it's just amazing. I know, my chapter titles are always found at the last minute. Well, at least, it makes it a little surprise for you! Have fun reading this!  
  
Trory4ever: YEAH! I love you! Ahem, yeah... thanks for the rambling! Ramblers will take over the world once! Muahahahahahaha... Well, I guess English private school every Wednesday afternoon helped my English a bit. Hope I can get it even better. Yep, I love my protective Tristan, he's just perfect, he he he. No, rambling is NEVER enough, lol.  
  
Emz-008: Well, since I haven't updated in ages, I guess you didn't have any problem. Hope you had a great party, they're always fun!  
  
Smile1: Whoa! Thanks for the review! I never expected that someone thought my writing capacity would extend! Yeah, these parts are my fav too, I'm more comfortable writing that than speech parts and actions. Well, I hope this chapter reaches your high expectations! And continue your good job with your story, I love it.  
  
Jazz14: if you find it hilarious and sad, my job is done! The whole story is kept in balance between these two things and if I manage to make you feel it, I'm very very happy! Hope you'll continue to read!  
  
Moi: Well my dear... here is next chapter and things continue to develop in chapter 5 that is gonna be posted soon I hope! Continue to read, I hope you will. And what with everybody calling themselves "moi"? One of my friends even handed in tests with that name on them.  
  
Disclaimer: I own a laptop with a CMM desktop, does it mean that I own Tristan? Wish it was that way. Anyway... I don't own GG, I don't own Kodak, I own my angst and my insanity. And I still write a disclaimer in chapter 4 coz it's an excuse to ramble, he he he.  
  
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Chapter 4: Precious Stained Snowflakes  
  
It was snowing for the first time of the year. Tristan's heart tightened when he saw the white blanket covering everything. He wondered how he could go through this day when he was so miserable. He thought of skipping school, but he didn't know where to go and he couldn't possibly stay at home. His father was always in the house on Mondays, to sort of recover from his hangover and Tristan knew this week would be awful. Thursday was the 16th, he didn't want to think about it.  
  
He heard someone move upstairs and decided to leave. Earlier, he had dropped Ria at her best friend's so the two could have breakfast together before going to school. Nothing was holding him back now, and knowing that his father was awake was a very good reason not to stay in the blasted house. He decided to go to school on foot. Why, he didn't know, but walking is great moment to think. He walked quickly through the still sleepy streets. It was dark and windy, but the snow was making everything prettier.  
  
'Like Mom. Whenever she appeared somewhere, everything seemed to be lighter and prettier. She always had a smile and a kind word, even for the worst people.'  
  
Tristan shook his head slightly, oblivious of the stares coming from the passers-by. What could a Chilton kid be doing walking in the snow with soaked shoes, no gloves, scarf or anything?  
  
About half a mile away from school, Tristan started to feel bad. He was frozen to the bone; the falling snow was biting his face and the cut on his forehead was burning like hell with the water and the wind. The icy air had awakened a firing pain in his lungs. He sat on a step to catch his breath and rest a bit, angry at himself for being so weak. He made a snowball, threw it on the road and watched it dissolve in a puddle of mud. He stared blankly the crystal stuff being stained slowly by the dirty brown of the street.  
  
He stayed there for ten minutes, curled up with his head resting on his knees, moving up memories and thinking of what was ahead. Thinking of the day in Chilton, the lies and the fake smiles. Then about the evening. He didn't see the bus pass in front of him, nor did he see, among the passengers, the girl with cerulean eyes stare at him with surprise and concern.  
  
* * *  
  
When Tristan reached the main door of Chilton, the school was already bustling with kids. He silently made his way through the halls, avoiding the questioning stares of his friends, who weren't exactly used to see their king arrive with muddy pants, frozen and wet.  
  
"Hey man, why the hell are you in that state?" shouted Ben who was busy copying Spanish homework at the last minute.  
  
Tristan shrugged. "Just came on foot."  
  
The others stared at him in bewilderment and started to laugh. "Still the kamikaze one, huh? And I bet that cut is again a product of your maverick attitude. What did you do again? Tried to skateboard down the banister in front of your house?"  
  
Tristan smirked and waved at them before heading to his locker. However, as soon as he had turned the corner, the smirk disappeared. The 'kamikaze attitude' comment made him smile bitterly. Another day to spend lying was just beginning. But even that bitter smile disappeared. He frowned and focused on the pain in his lungs. Something was definitely wrong; he had some difficulty breathing. Feeling that he was suffocating, he took a deep breath, but it only made him cough. He sensed the blood filling his mouth and swallowed it quickly, resuming his walk. He didn't want to think about his possible internal injuries, he already had his external ones to keep him occupied.  
  
He eventually reached his locker and opened it. Rory had somehow shoved his notes in it; he picked them up and made them reintegrate his history folder when a crumbled paper caught his attention.  
  
*What's wrong?*  
  
Tristan laughed sullenly at Rory's message. Damn, did she want a list? He slammed his locker shut and felt the scab covering the gashes of his back pull on the skin at his movement. Afraid that the thin layer of dry blood would break, he calmed down and finally headed to his first class, shuffling his feet. He sat in the back, as usual, but he didn't pay attention to the teacher's rambling. His mind was still on the Sunday, which both Ria and him had spent locked in his room. He hadn't been able to get up all day and his body was just killing him.  
  
* * *  
  
He avoided Rory all day; he just didn't want to face the one person who had obviously seen beyond his lies. He didn't know when or how, but he didn't really care: his goal was to put as much distance as possible between them. He skipped lunch and hid in the library, a sanctuary for anyone with problems. He pulled out his tattered David Copperfield copy from his bag and soon drowned in another reality, as gloomy as his. He liked Dickens. Tristan believed it was because the characters were as miserable as him, but he held the secret hope that one day, he would get out of the nightmare like Oliver Twist.  
  
In class, he would keep up the act and be the arrogant prat the Chilton society was used to see and worshipped. None of his so-called friends ever really wondered about him and it was just fine. If there was a thing that Tristan knew, it was hiding everything that could get him hurt even more. But sometimes, the mask would fall, leaving a broken Tristan without any protection. Oh, he would pick it up quickly and hide again, but it would be too late: Rory Gilmore had already seen what was beneath.  
  
She had observed him all day. She never had thought of him as being really human and the image of him on the frozen step was flashing constantly in her head. It was so unusual to see him other than like funny and aggravating Tristan. That was what everybody thought he was, but she had spotted him in a very different posture that morning. Rory knew that in the whole school, she was the only one to have noticed this internal battle to keep the walls up, she was the only one to have realised that he had skipped lunch. She had seen in his eyes something that nobody else seemed to have ever even guessed. Sadness, melancholy, pain, anger. It was all a blur. But most of all, she had realised something that was killing her: he was avoiding her. Tristan had probably read her message, and now he was running away.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Rory stepped in the warm house and the familiar scent of coffee pushed Tristan in a corner of her mind as she headed for the kitchen. There she found Lorelei, staring pensively at the yard covered in snow. She was clutching a cup of coffee which wasn't exceptional. She grinned widely when she saw Rory.  
  
"Spawn of mine!" And she started to twirl in the room, taking out cinnamon cookies, filling a cup for her beloved daughter and handing her the whole.  
  
"Mom, do you need something from me? What with all the bribery?" asked an already worried Rory. It wasn't good when she was treated like that, it always meant that her mom wanted something, and it was either crazy, either embarrassing.  
  
Lorelei sat next to the stove and started to kick her legs in the air, still holding her coffee cup and grinning mischievously. "How was your encounter with Gorgeous Spawn of Satan?"  
  
Rory didn't even react at the way Lorelei had named him. She could see his sad smile again, how he bowed his head each time he was crossing her path, making sure not to meet her gaze. 'How stupid I was to have put that note in his locker! I should have minded my own business, we're not friends, why would he have come to me?' She put her head on the table and closed her eyes.  
  
Lorelei watched Rory with anxiety. Her daughter would normally roll her eyes at the sound of his name, slightly amused. She would tell her about their arguments, about how exasperating he was. But not this time.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
Rory started to laugh scarily at the sound of her own message. What could possibly be wrong? Nothing was really wrong, he wasn't her friend, she didn't care about him, what was the matter?  
  
"Nothing, nothing! So, how was Michel today?" she answered with a light tone. Lorelei decided to classify the moment as momentary tiredness breakdown for now and moved on to full rambling mode.  
  
"Funny! He was as usual, he insulted me in French, he complained all day about nonsense Christmas stuff and he became green."  
  
Rory raised an eyebrow "Green?"  
  
"Yep! I was talking with Sookie and I don't remember what I was telling her, but suddenly, she went all jittery and she waved her spoon a bit more forcefully than expected and something green and sticky landed on Michel's nose. I don't want to know what it was, but Michel was green, it was a great Kodak moment, really. Then I annoyed him all day with some Tristan comments, on how frustrated I was that he wasn't a gorgeous blonde boy but only a nasty stuck-up git who still had green stuff on his nose."  
  
* * *  
  
The rest of the evening was spent joyously. Rory had few homework for once and they spent the time in the garden, building a giant Luke-like snowman. They even fixed a cup in his hand and Lorelei had stolen his baseball cap earlier in the day. Rory stuffed snow in Lorelei's mouth when she was laughing, everything ended in a huge snowball war.  
  
Around ten, soaked and cold, they headed back inside and changed their clothes. They brewed more coffee and sat in front of the television, perfectly knowing that no program was worth their attention but too tired to do something else. Rory had forgotten about the forlorn boy on the frozen step, that same boy who had spent his day under assault, picking up the bricks of his walls.  
  
"Are you gonna tell me what happened with Tristan?" finally broke Lorelei, watching Rory carefully. She saw how her daughter crumbled under the interrogation and she immediately understood that it was serious.  
  
On her side, Rory was again flowed with the images of him. She was sad that he was avoiding her. For the first time since the dreadful day she put a foot in Chilton, she had missed his annoying comments; she had missed seeing him leaning against the lockers, smirk flashing, stupid comeback ready. She sighed and turned off the TV.  
  
"What do you do when someone is not really your friend but you're the only one to know something about them is wrong? And what do you do when the person knows you know and avoids you?"  
  
"Does Tristan avoid you?"  
  
Rory nodded and continued. "I think it's something important. Something he buried under that stupid attitude. And it affects him, but the guy is just too proud to admit that he needs help!"  
  
Lorelei directed her gaze to the ceiling. "If only you had listened to me and sent those notes to a graphologist..."  
  
* * *  
  
Tristan entered the house carefully by the kitchen door. He paused in the deserted room to make out the different sounds in the mansion. It was quite silent, like always, and only the maid moving furniture could be heard. He grabbed something to eat for both Ria and him and cautiously climbed the stairs to his room. He knew Ria would be there, silent and scared that their father had heard her coming back from school. He would never get violent in front of other people, even in front of the maid, but how are you supposed to face the man that hates you when fear is clutching your stomach?  
  
He found her hidden in his closet and they sat there to eat their bread and chocolate. They talked about everything and anything, from Ria's teacher to the neighbours' dog. Both knew they were doing a great effort to avoid the burning subject but it was always like that: they wanted to forget.  
  
They heard Charles Dugrey talk with the maid. It was kind of sickening how pleasant and courteous he was with other people. They overheard him closing the door behind her. It was still early so she wouldn't have cooked. Both the kids could foreshadow that there wouldn't be any meal that evening.  
  
Tristan lied awake for a long time that night. Ria had gone to sleep about three hours ago, but he couldn't fall asleep. He was thinking about Rory Gilmore and what her message meant. How much did she know, what did she see today? He knew he had upset her by staying away from her, but could he trust her? He didn't think so. He trusted nobody and Rory would never understand. Furthermore, she probably didn't really care. Ever since she had started Chilton, he had been an ass to her and she had proved that she disliked him in many occasions.  
  
He was repeating over and over in his head that he didn't need help and that he would manage. He didn't want anybody to know, he was aware of what would happen: he had heard too many stories of separated siblings to trust the social services. No, he wouldn't ask anything. And Rory Gilmore wouldn't pry into his life.  
  
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I hope you loved it, I hope you're going to press that magnificent lavender button in the bottom left corner of your screen. Look, it's calling you, waving madly! Don't be wicked to the poor little button, pay attention to it! 


	5. Push me away, I'll come back more determ...

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope you guys had a nice Christmas and new year's celebrations! Thanks to Madz for her corrections on the text and UPDATE... damn. *innocent smirk*  
  
Jazz14: Oh oh oh... What did you do to be grounded that way? Be careful, you might end up in some military school. Yep, it sucks to be grounded... At least, my parents can't take away my cable internet since I don't have one. *pout*  
  
Siaram: Well, glad you found it, finally! It happens to me a lot too, I suddenly come across stories that are totally unknown to me and yet, I spend countless hours on that site. I hope you're gonna continue to read and enjoy!  
  
Priscilla: Whoa... this was quite a review, thanks! I really hope I manage to keep them all in character. I just can't believe that Tristan is just a stupid jerk, it doesn't fit in my little world, I'm in denial. Is my update quick enough for you? He he he... I know, authors who don't update in forever annoy me *cough*Madz*cough* Hope I live up to your expectations.  
  
Ally: Yeah, that wouldn't be rushed and plain at all, lol. Sorry to tell you that it's not the way I see it... *innocent smirk* But Rory will come to the rescue... once.  
  
Pearls24: Thanks, I'm happy you love my story. Who said I was gonna get Tristan out of this mess, huh? *hides behind table* Ok, I promise, I'm gonna pull him out of the fix, he's gonna be ok. Trory forever... muahahahahaha.  
  
RachelGreen3: I'm updating! Glad to know you're not angry, I don't like when people are angry at me *pout* And I continue, in fact, I've already nearly finished chapter 6. but now, my brain is dead cause I worked all holidays in that hellhole called a grocery and I think I'm losing my mind a bit, working there, among weirdos...  
  
DitzyChik: Thanks, I do what I can to entertain you guys. Hope you enjoy, this story has really grown on me and I'm fond of it. Hope I won't disappoint you, but read on...  
  
Smile1: You shouldn't be honoured, I'm honoured that YOU read my story. I love yours and I just saw that you've started to write a sequel to Truthful Web of Lies... Argh, lucky me I accidentally clicked on your name and spotted that in your profile... Humor is difficult to write, and speech parts too, because it always seems so empty when compared to angst. I love Ria too, I'm gonna develop her character a lot more later on. *smile*  
  
Moi: ah ah ah, asa if someone rambling could bother me! Who are you kidding? Rory pries a lot in this chapter, he he he... Enjoy. Lorelei's RULE! Muahahahaha.  
  
Kellene: YES! Someone finally agrees that pov changing can do some good to the story! I love to write in the first person sometimes, it's really like you're in the characters and know everything. It's a great way to be really in the story.  
  
GOOFYGIRL: Merci du compliment, je fais ce que je peux avec mon Anglais de merde (non, en fait, il est pas mal, lol. Tu crois franchement qu'ils vont commencer à se parler sous peu ? Tu peux attendre... encore et encore. Argh, je me rappelle plus de cette discussion, j'ai pas vu le film en entier, faudra que j'aille le louer un des ces 4. Merci, je sais que le Québec est au Canada... Et j'espère que t' es au courant que la Suisse est à côté de la France et pas de la Norvège ! *smile*  
  
Madz: always have to mess around, huh ? Can't even post a review correctly... tsk tsk tsk. I?m sorry to announce you that you can only find guys like my Tristan in my head, and now, probably in yours. Chapter 6 on its way, check your inbox dear. Tristan, in a dangerous situation? Maybe, maybe... *smirk* Anyway, thanks a lot again for your work on this chapter, don't be shy about giving your opinion! And freaking update Lost Souls before I kill you, ok?  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own GG, don't own Tristan, don't own anything, just dream that I do... Delusion keeps me alive. *sob*  
  
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Chapter 5:  
  
*Rory's pov*  
  
All night I've turned the issue in my head. No way I could sleep, I had just lain awake, staring vacantly at the ceiling. I thought Tristan was someone easy. In my eyes, he was very simple to decipher: just an annoying git. And finally, it appears that this guy is a walking contradiction. I've never seen such a duality inside someone and it fascinates me, I need to know more. Furthermore, this guy definitely has a problem. A big issue, a secret side and I want to find out, I want to help him, if nothing else. What I saw of him yesterday morning has changed my vision of him and I'm afraid that perhaps I was wrong from the beginning.  
  
It's lunch time but I'm not in the cafeteria. I'm tracking him. God, me, Rory Gilmore, normally quite sane, pursuing Tristan Dugrey, the guy I used to avoid at all costs... Mom would be proud.  
  
He enters the library and I follow silently, the place is deserted. He heads to the very back of the room, to a table tucked in a corner and I pause behind a shelf. I have to gather my courage and swallow my fear. My fear of him.  
  
I hid it quite well I think, but he scares me. He always did. The fact that he's so unpredictable always put pressure on me whenever I'm around him. I never really knew how to act around him and today is again the case.  
  
I take a deep breath and I step forward. 'It's only Tristan!' is repeated in my head like a mantra, but when I come to face him, I only see a stranger. However, I'm lucky he's too absorbed in his work and doesn't see me before I'm cornering him. When he realises he's stuck, I see a whole defence mechanism coming into the play. He tenses and concentrates harder on his work, blocking me out. He's ignoring me. Gee, it's gonna be difficult.  
  
I sit next to him and I start to talk. It's like I'm talking to a wall, but I know that he hears me, even if he doesn't listen.  
  
"Tristan." He stares intensely at his paper, I think he could set fire to it, which wouldn't really be a shame since it's bloody Geography homework, but then, maybe some people like to do their Geography homework, even if I'm not in that category...  
  
I mentally slap myself and come to my senses. I don't think homework is exactly the cause of my presence here.  
  
"Tristan please, stop ignoring me. Is it about the message I left in your locker? I'm sorry if it upset you, maybe I shouldn't have done that. It's just that I saw you on a step yesterday morning and you looked a bit out of it. I apologize, ok?"  
  
He continues to pay no attention to me and just doodles on his notebook. I stand up and start to go away, it's useless, he's a stubborn bastard.  
  
"Never talk to me again. Leave me alone and bloody mind your own business."  
  
I spin around at the sound of his sharp voice. He's still fixing the sheet of paper in front of him but his grip on the pencil has tightened, it's like he's about to break it. I go back to the table.  
  
"You have a problem, admit it. Look at you, I don't recognize the Tristan I used to know!"  
  
"Isn't it for the better? You hate him. Why don't you go and give your pity to someone who actually needs or wants it?"  
  
I'm taken aback by this comment. Do I hate him? Is he right? My mind is so confused; how can I reply? And it's not pity, right?  
  
"You're perfectly aware that I don't hate you and that I don't give pity. And you're-"  
  
"I'm alright, I'm perfectly ok," he snaps angrily. "Leave."  
  
I bite my lower lip as the order is thrown in my face. I turn again and walk toward the door without looking at him anymore. Why waste my time? Maybe he is telling the truth and is really ok, maybe I just imagined everything that I saw yesterday. I spin around one more time before exiting. I spot him with his head in his hands. He's now sitting curled up on his chair, and the Geography homework has been thrown against the opposite wall. I don't understand how, I don't think I've heard anything, but it's not important. He was lying, and I won't quit.  
  
I don't really know what I'm going to do, but what I know is that I have to find someone that is aware of many things. Someone who's known Tristan for a long time, who's been friends with him. Someone like Paris, for example.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The day was long for Rory. All she wanted was to reach the evening and the school end so she would be able to talk with Paris. She didn't really know what she would ask and how, but she knew Paris would help her. Or at least, she hoped.  
  
Once or twice in the afternoon, she had seen Tristan stare at her apologetically. She quickly understood that he was sorry for their earlier conversation and smiled at him when he departed from school.  
  
She caught Paris near her locker and convinced her to go for a drink. It felt weird for both of them to be together again.  
  
"What do you want again Gilmore? I already did you a favour on Sunday, it's not going to happen again in a very long time," drawled Paris in her usual way.  
  
"What can you tell me about Tristan?" asked Rory with a blush.  
  
Paris raised her eyebrows and started to smirk widely. "Got a crush Gilmore? Your mommy will be happy."  
  
Rory sighed and took a big sip of coffee. "Not at all. He's got a problem and told me off today. It's important, I want to know."  
  
Paris suddenly put back her serious face on. "What happened?"  
  
Rory told her everything. She had always trusted Paris and she knew that the girl wouldn't betray Tristan. Paris stare became charged with worry as Rory spoke. She shook her head slightly and was starting to wonder if she wouldn't ask for some whiskey in her tea.  
  
"Look Rory, don't pry into his life. I just give you this advice. Leave him alone, that's what he wants."  
  
"Why? Why was he like that yesterday? He's been different lately."  
  
"It's December, and it's not a good time of the year for him, that's all. He'll be better soon, but you have to forget about that. Stay away from him."  
  
"No."  
  
"Ok. It's your choice. But I'm just going to tell you one thing. He won't be in school Thursday. Take his work and bring it to him. Then you'll see."  
  
"How do you-" started Rory, but Paris downed her cup of tea, gathered her things and left without a look at a wondering Rory.  
  
* * * * * * * *  
  
Paris Gellar was one of the very few to know what had happened six years ago. She would remember that day all her life. It was the day she finally became conscious that death was something that hit everybody, even the ones close to her. Hard realisation.  
  
Tristan had drifted away from her with time. They had grown up apart and she had seen him become a stranger. Something told her that Rory might be someone to help him, but she also knew how Tristan was now: lonely. He had closed up to everybody but Victoria and nobody had been able to claw their way in. He was the Chilton king because he had no feelings and played with life and people. The true model of the bastard. For years, she had wondered how she could help him.  
  
Today, Rory Gilmore was there and she knew something. Maybe it was the last chance. Maybe Thursday would bring something new, or maybe it would just make him close a bit more. But Rory wasn't someone to give up easily, so perhaps it would reinforce her determination. Paris could only pray that things would work out.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Thursday came quickly. Too quickly for Tristan's liking. He felt strange when he woke up that morning. It was very early, but the sound of objects crashing against walls told him he wasn't the only one. Today was the dreadful day. He wouldn't go to school but he wouldn't stay at home. First, he would go somewhere for Ria's birthday. It was the most important thing. Then they would go to the graveyard, when their father would have finally left.  
  
He dressed all in black. It wasn't exceptional, he didn't like colours. Black was the only one that matched his mood and feelings any day. It was very early and he just stood in front of his window, watching the snow that was still falling everywhere.  
  
When Charles Dugrey left for the cemetery with his bottle of vodka in his bag, Tristan went to wake up Ria and cook breakfast. He wasn't hungry at all, but it was Ria's day before their mother's and she would have a real birthday morning.  
  
The little girl came down quickly when she smelled the pancakes and threw her arms around her brother's waist.  
  
"So what are we doing this morning?" she asked laughing.  
  
Tristan smiled at her. "Anything you want to."  
  
"Well, I want to go sliding, then have some hot chocolate in a nice place. Then can we go to the art museum?"  
  
"Of course." Replied her brother, laughing slightly. The art museum. Very Ria-like. She was a strange little girl, like she had grown too fast, which she probably had. She liked serious places like museums and libraries, she loved reading and history and always complained about the stupid writing exercises they had to do in school.  
  
They had great fun all morning. Both had banned dark thoughts from their minds for a few hours and fully enjoyed their morning. They played in the snow for two hours before getting back home to change and go out again. Tristan brought Ria to a very elegant tea-room and they spent their time there laughing at old stuck-up ladies. Ria walked around the room waving at them like a princess while Tristan was hiding under the table, laughing his head off. Then they went to the museum, where Ria received her present. A huge box of colour pencils, which she used immediately. Ria's project was to copy every work in the museum and Tristan had to drag her out using strength.  
  
The afternoon went by tainted with sadness. They walked to the florist before going to the graveyard and bought lilies. They had had lunch late and it was already 4 pm when they entered the park. Tristan was relieved that their father wasn't there anymore, it wasn't a good day for fights.  
  
The kids spent nearly two hours there. Ria kneeled on the grave and begged Tristan to tell her stories of the past times. He had feared that she would ask, but he still shared with her beautiful memories. Soaked and cold, they finally took the way back home, hand in hand.  
  
That's where he spotted her. Rory Gilmore, again. Just outside the graveyard. She had seen them and waved shyly. She was in her Chilton uniform and had books in her arms. Tristan was wondering how their meeting would go. He always hid his bitterness in front of Ria so he couldn't tell her off like Tuesday.  
  
"Hey Tristan. Hello Ria!"  
  
"Hey."  
  
Tristan answered softly and directed his gaze to the ground. Ria was silent and seemed to be in another galaxy. Rory shifted on her feet, not really knowing what to do or to say.  
  
"You weren't in school today, so I brought you your work. I was going to your house, I thought you were sick or something."  
  
"Well, I'm not. Thanks for the work, you didn't have to do that."  
  
He took the papers and stuffed them in a pocket of his coat.  
  
"Ok then... Good evening, see you tomorrow." Finally said Rory. Tristan just nodded and continued his way with Ria, grateful that this conversation was over.  
  
Rory on the other hand, was watching the graveyard with intensity. She had seen the two next to a grave and she wanted to know whose it was. She entered the park slowly, feeling a bit out of place. The snow was crunching under her feet, it was the only noise that could be heard. She reached the grave and read the epitaph.  
  
"Angela Dugrey. 1958-1997. Our angel has gone back to the Lord but she still protects her family."  
  
Rory stood motionless for minutes. She read and reread the words again, starting to catch their meaning. She then ran out to the closest phone and dialled Paris' number.  
  
"Paris Gellar."  
  
"It's Rory. I've just-"  
  
"I knew you would call. Did you see Tristan?" her tone was neutral, but in fact, she really wanted to know what had happened.  
  
"I met him outside the cemetery. Not a concluding meeting till he left and I found a grave. It's his mother's, right?"  
  
"Yeah. Look, I have to go. See you tomorrow." And she hung up the phone. Paris was shaking. Rory had discovered and she was probably a bit shocked too, but Paris was feeling really bad. She didn't want to talk about it with Rory, not now, not today.  
  
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Story moving on, reviews piling, I love you guys, give me reviews and it'll brighten my day! 


	6. Runaway from hard reality

A/N: Hey everybody! Welcome again to the realm of Salvation of an Angel for my next chapter! Bit different and maybe not what you were expecting, but an interesting twist (or so I hope, lol). Read, enjoy, review, you know the drill!  
  
Disclaimer: I guess I have to do one. The name of the Nowhere Kids were inspired to me by Smile Empty Soul and their song Nowhere Kids (Yep, I'm extremely creative, I admit it).  
  
Jalna: I totally agree with your theory about Tristan and don't worry, he's NOT gonna become a nice, cute, boring little boy *cough*Dean*cough* He's Tristan and will always be, more about that in next chapter, old Tristan will come back, all explained in next chapter, I promise!  
  
Madz: I'm very proud of you, you were able to do it right! No, I'm not laughing at you at all. *innocent smirk* Ok, maybe a tad bit. LS! YEAH! When are you going to write the end? *twirl*. Sorry to disappoint you, but Trory interaction is rather limited for now, since one avoids the other and the latter doesn't know what to say to the first one and ARGH, they're annoying, aren't they? I like my Rory, lol. Meg says she becomes an annoying whiny bitch later on but I'm in denial, lol. My Paris is much better *bighead mode* I always liked Paris and her dripping sarcasm and cynic, one of my fav characters on this show (after Tristan, don't worry). Yep, why do you think I don't bother getting a life? My head is a much nicer place and daydreaming is cool. Well, I'm sorry, maybe suspense will kill you before she knows, muahahahahaha...  
  
Cblotnicky: yep, I'm sorry, I'm a sucker to tragic and melodramatic stories, lol.  
  
Moi: good good prying won't stop, but good good Rory will take it right in the face. Did I awaken your curiosity? Good good, so you can continue to read and review my dear. *smirk*  
  
Miarae: I write more, soon, that I don't know of. Lol, I honestly try to update as much as I can and even write in class (depends on the lesson) so well, I hope you'll continue to be satisfied with my updates!  
  
Smile1: Yep, I shall never forgive you for your short reviews, lol. Not one of my fav either, don't worry. How could it be, I'm a trory lover and they're exactly doing the contrary of what I would like them to do! K, stop the complain here, I'm the blasted author after all, it's my fault. Aaaah, Paris. Good character, more developing here again!  
  
Pearls24: Hey, who could have had info about Tristan in an intelligent way? Louise? *snorts*. Well, I'll get Tristan out of the fix, but for now, I'll stay under the table, security before everything else. *smirk*  
  
Siaram: Well, I'm glad you found my story, he he he. You want to read about their evening? Ta da my dear, here you are, hope you enjoy! I'll never understand either and I feel bad for any kid in the same situation as Tristan and Ria. Some people shouldn't be able to have kids, they don't deserve them.  
  
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chapter 6:  
  
Both the kids saw Rory enter the cemetery. Tristan knew what she was doing; she was again prying into his life. He looked back again but the brown- haired girl had disappeared behind the high wall circling the graveyard. He made Ria stop at the corner and they spied on the entrance of the park. After a few minutes that seemed an eternity, Rory emerged from the park and ran across the street to the first phone booth, clearly shaken and with a look of shock on her face.  
  
Tristan bit his lower lip as he watched her dial a number and rest her forehead against the glass of the booth. His mind was racing. She had discovered one of his secrets. She had laid her eyes on his mother's grave and she had run away.  
  
Ria and Tristan were aware that this death wasn't a secret at all. A lot of ink had flowed over the event, considering the social position of the Dugrey family in the Hartford society, but people had forgotten with time. It's always like this, the dead fall into oblivion after a while and Angela Dugrey was just another woman who had died by giving birth to a child.  
  
The wind blew harder in the streets and easily went through the kids' soaked clothes. Afraid that Ria would catch a cold, he hurried along the snowy streets, dragging her home. When they walked up the alley, they saw that all the lights were on, a sign that their father was looking for them. A chill ran down their spines and they turned on their heels. They couldn't go back home tonight and had hardly any money with them.  
  
After two hours of endless walk, Ria started to cry with exhaustion. They were frozen to the bone, tired, sad and had nowhere to go. Darkness had settled on Hartford a long time ago and the streets were less and less busy. Tristan knew that they couldn't afford being caught by cops. And two kids wandering aimlessly in the streets could go unnoticed until the shops closed, not after.  
  
They had to find a hiding place. Tristan had first thought of going to some friend's house, pretending anything, but he had banned this idea from his mind. Even going to Paris scared him. He was frightened that something would slip. Around ten, Ria was practically sleeping and he carried her. His body was aching with the memory of the last beating but he had to find a place, he couldn't just stop there.  
  
He went deeper in the labyrinth of narrow and dirty streets composing the gloomy areas of Hartford. The areas you avoid at all costs if you don't carry a gun. The area you don't fear going into when you have nothing left to lose.  
  
Suddenly, someone sent him flying against a brick wall. He let Ria fall to the ground and she woke up, scared to find herself in such a place. She got to her feet quickly and hid behind Tristan. He was breathing hard and she had no doubt that the shock had awakened the pain he had tried to hide from her since Sunday.  
  
Through the shadows, they could distinguish human figures. Plenty of them. An army of the night, roaming the paved roads of hell to find money, food, lives, whatever. Both Tristan and Ria were petrified with fear. They knew that these people could hurt or even kill them. They knew they could be violent and that they most probably carried weapons.  
  
"What are you doing down here?" barked a sharp voice. The guy speaking stepped in the glimmer of a streetlamp and Tristan realised that they were around the same age.  
  
"Seeking shelter for the night and I don't see how it can be your bloody business," he replied, successfully hiding his fear. He knew that looking insolent and strong was the only way to get out of this shit.  
  
The guy laughed manically. "It's my business 'cause you're on our territory." The shadows nodded in the dark, supporting every word coming out of the mouth of the guy who was certainly their leader.  
  
Tristan nodded thoughtfully. "I didn't know. Well... We'll leave and let the cops catch us. After all, who cares?" he picked up Ria in his arms and felt her shudder against him, she was terrified. He started to walk to get out of the circle of shadows who were whispering, probably plotting to hunt them down.  
  
"Wait." It was the voice of a teenage girl, maybe around 14 or so. "What are you running away from with a little girl like her?" she said, Looking at Ria.  
  
He spun around and saw a black-haired girl dressed in what looked like dirty rags.  
  
He laughed bitterly. "Hard reality."  
  
The guy nodded and talked again. "Just for one night, huh? I guess we could help you, you don't look so different from us when we look beyond your clean appearance. Follow me."  
  
Tristan was surprised, but a bit relieved. He was still on his guard though: how could he trust them? The whole group walked for a mile before entering an abandoned hangar. Fires were lit in metal bins, among piles of old pieces of furniture. In this apocalyptical scenery, they were around 50 kids.  
  
The leader of the troupe motioned Tristan toward one of the fire and with pliers, took a can of green peas out of it. After having wrapped it in a rag, he handed it to Tristan and Ria, who smiled, starving as she was.  
  
The street kid surveyed the hangar with his sharp eyes. "Welcome to the city of the Nowhere Kids."  
  
Tristan took a step forward and let his gaze wander around. "Why this name?"  
  
"Because we're from nowhere, we're going nowhere and we belong to nowhere," answered the girl who had already spoken on the street. Tristan realised that the others had dispersed and that Ria and him were left with the leader and that girl.  
  
She extended her hand and smirked at him. "I'm Alex and this is my bro Liam. So, what brought you on the streets? You're not exactly the type of guys we generally encounter in these streets, especially at night."  
  
Tristan looked down at Ria and saw that she had fallen asleep in his arms, still holding her can of peas against her. He didn't understand why he said what he said, but it was like he could unfold the truth without fearing anything.  
  
"Would have already committed suicide if I didn't have my sister, anniversary of our mom's death today, girl prying into my life, drunken daddy waiting for us tonight, sick of being beaten, sick of lying. Sums up the situation pretty well I guess," he answered in a bored voice.  
  
Liam raised an eyebrow. "Shit's pretty deep tonight, huh?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Lorelei's pov*  
  
"Rory! Hurry up; you're missing the beginning of the movie! Ginger has already been thrown in the coal bin two times!  
  
I'm screaming at the top of my lungs while downing pop corn. Chicken Run is the movie of tonight and I'm already caught up in the story of these hens, even if I have to confess that I don't mind eating chicken nuggets for dinner. Well, ok, I'm not so sure of what is inside those suspect things they try to sell as chicken, but well, it's the name that counts... And the fact that it's yummy.  
  
I sigh and yell again at Rory. She's missing the movie, it's a very serious infringement of the Gilmore rule number 5: Movie night: watch, eat junk food, comment and fall asleep in front of the tv. And she's not watching, I'm gonna have to punish her. I guess that I could make her skip school and go shopping with me tomorrow.  
  
"Mom, why are you grinning evilly?" I snap out of my sweet reverie and look up at Rory's who's standing in the doorway.  
  
"Oh, just imagining my revenge on you because you're missing the movie." I reply innocently. Well, as innocently as I can. I throw a pop corn in the air and try to catch it in my mouth. I fail and it falls in my t-shirt.  
  
"I'm really not in the mood, sorry."  
  
I'm a bit taken aback at her sad tone and I don't react immediately when she heads back to her room and slams the door behind her. I finally get up and walk to her door. I pause with my hand on the doorknob, I'm not sure if she wants to talk with me about whatever troubles her.  
  
I open the door slowly and step in the dark room. Rory is standing in front of the window and is wiping tears away. I gently touch her shoulder and make her face me. She burst in tears again and I hold her against me. I walk her to her bed and turn on a light. I've quite forgotten about the pop corn still wandering in my shirt.  
  
I sit next to her and stroke her cheek, I hate seeing her like this. "What's the matter Rory?"  
  
She shakes her head. "I shouldn't have gone there. I should have minded my own business. I can't face him again."  
  
Tristan. Of course she's speaking about him. He's really the only one that can put her in such a state at the moment. I stay silent, waiting for her to continue.  
  
"He missed school today, you know. So I took his work and went to his house. I never reached his house, I met him and his sister in front of the graveyard. Today was the anniversary of their mom's death." Her voice trails off.  
  
I don't know what to say. I generally manage to come up with a stupid comment to lighten the atmosphere a bit and then I hug her tightly, but this time, it's over my head. She's been talking about him for the whole week. Trying to decipher what he was hiding. Today, she knows and she hurts. Life is cruel.  
  
I leave her alone and head to Luke's. I need some comfort and I hope his sarcasm and stupid comments about me can lift up my spirits.  
  
"Don't even take a step further if it's for coffee," drawls Luke while handing Kirk a glass of water and shooing him away. Kirk goes past me and glares in my direction. He's still angry for the graphology trick but no joke about it finds its way through my mouth.  
  
I nevertheless step in the café and goes to sit at the counter, letting my purse fall on the floor and with a dark look on my face. The coffee cup lands in front of me without any cynical theory from Luke. I look up at him.  
  
"So, what's on your mind?"  
  
"Tristan," I answer, downing half my cup.  
  
Luke takes a step back. "No, not him again. I already told you that I didn't want to hear about your obsession over him again!"  
  
"My sense of humour is in a coma tonight, I'm not joking." I down the rest of the cup and hand it back to Luke for a refill.  
  
"Ok. What's with him?" I love Luke in these moments. When he drops the stupid comebacks and is here to listen and help me.  
  
"This kid has lost his mother, he's lonely, he's different from what people think he is, he's tortured. He tried to push Rory away because she wanted to help him. Of course, she didn't listen to him and now, she's hurt, she's currently crying in her pillow and I came here because I needed some coffee to cheer me up."  
  
Luke understands what lies behind the coffee comment. He knows it's not coffee that cheers me up. It's my old buddy Luke that I need.  
  
"I should have supported you in the graphology business. Would have saved us a lot of trouble."  
  
I can't help but chuckle slightly at this. Typically Luke. He only has to say two sentences and I'm already grinning a bit. He grins back and hands me a cookie. "Will Lorelei be happy again with a cookie? It's a real one this time, not dog biscuit."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Paris' pov*  
  
I'm sitting on my carpet and I'm going through photo albums. I watch the pictures of Tristan and me when we were younger. I have loads of them, we were like siblings, always together. We've known each other for years; since the age of three or something. We spent all our childhood together.  
  
A picture of us sitting on the wall of my garden catches my attention. I remember that day, we were eight and it was summer. We had come back from swimming in the river behind my house and we were eating lemon cake when Tristan's mom had taken this picture.  
  
Tristan and I are smiling brightly, happy and oblivious of what the future had in store for us, for our friendship. I watch closely little Tristan on the picture. His tanned skin reminds me of our long afternoon spent outside, exploring my neighbourhood. His blue eyes are laughing. This Tristan died the same day as his mother. In his place, the new Tristan came to life.  
  
A sad and closed up boy, who rejected me and hurt me. And he grew up into the jerk that I knew imprisoned my friend. His eyes never shined again like in this picture. When he smiles now, it doesn't mean anything, it's empty and fake.  
  
A tear falls on the picture that I cherish so much. I miss my little Tristan, I miss the boy who made me laugh and that I considered like my little brother. I wish that he would come back to me and that things would go back to how they were. I know that I lull myself in delusion.  
  
I close the album and put it back in my desk. In the drawer that holds all my memories, my secret garden. I lock the drawer and hide the key in my nearly empty jewellery box. I dry my tears and brush my hair before going down to the party my parents are throwing. I can't believe they forgot what day this is.  
  
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You liked? REVIEW, I'll give you cookies... not dog biscuit, I promise, lol. 


	7. Forming ice, breaking ice

A/N: I'm sorry. Sorry fort he delay. I sent this nearly two weeks ago to Madz, but she doesn't answer my emails. Anyway, all this to explain that this chapter hasn't been beta-read, deal with the fact that I'm French and that my writing must be apocalyptical. The part between *~** is a flashback, I just don't know how write it in bold or something. Oh... I guess nobody received my cookies, right? I sent my owl (sorry, Harry Potter fan here...) but I guess it ate them all before reaching you.... Like owl, like master, lol.  
  
Fire'N'Ice: Hey you! It's been a time, I miss you *pout*. No my dear, sorry, you're not supposed to eat dog biscuits, but you can give them to lil Jess if you want, lol. Ahem... *innocent smirk*  
  
Pearls 24: Of course you want cookies duh! Everybody wants them, he he he. Thanks, I like to reply to reviews, even if some people begin to find the length of my A/N annoying in my HP fic... to be honest, I don't know where it comes from. I think there's a lot more to Tristan than what is shown in the show and this idea just popped out of nowhere or nearly. I'm writing a HP fic about abuse too, so maybe I just stuck to it, I don't know. I'll try to keep up the good work, keep up the good reviews!  
  
Lindsay: thanks! I don't know if it's an amazing piece of literature (though your compliment makes me smile madly) but for fanfic, I guess it's not so bad.  
  
GOOFYGIRL: Lol, you say that for nearly every chapter! Does it mean you love my story more each time I post something? *pout* No? Et plus de Français non plus... so disappointing, he he he.  
  
Jalna: I have to point out that this is AU. Of course, being totally upset that French channels never aired the first season till the end, I checked things on the Internet to know a bit more about the show, but I don't want to use things lightly. I try to keep people in character and do something out of it. The Tristan you see in this story is just another part of his personality, just like Paris, for example.  
  
Piper-h-99: I update, I update... When I can, when I have a chapter written, when my dad doesn't sleep in front of the computer... Updating is really a tough work, lol.  
  
Moi: Do you love dog biscuits too? They're really not as yummi as cookies. No, I haven't tried, but even my granny's dog prefers cookies to dog biscuits so I assume they're much better. I'm rambling, don't bother, lol.  
  
Deeta: I sent you the cookie, but as stated somewhere up there, it certainly was eaten by that moronic owl of mine... *innocent smirk*. Lol, yes, you mentioned amazing. Four times *twirl* thanks for the compliment. Honestly, would someone like Tristan let Rory pry?  
  
Cblotnicky: I never told you, but your name makes me laugh. Sorry, don't take it wrong, I move on now... *sheepish smile* this was the biggest compliment that one could make to this fic! All tough guys should have a Ria, he he he.  
  
Kellene: yep, you missed the last update, I'm angry at you. No, don't beg, I won't reply to your review *pout* *looks at the screen and realises that she's indeed replying* Okaaaay... But it's only coz it's you! Well, wait wait and wait. That's all I can say... No, I'm not implying that she won't find out!  
  
Miarae: you...were...crying? Great compliment to an angst writer, our aim is to make people cry after all. I wanted Paris to be touching and human, I guess the goal is reached. I try to update every week, but as you see, I totally failed this time...  
  
Smile1: Hey faithful reviewer who writes long long reviews, lol. Okaaay... so if I follow correctly, you thought chapter 5 was extremely good, chapter 6 even better but they're not your fav. So your fav is even better, huh? Lol, I can be such an annoying bitch. Dark is good *nods manically* Yep, she'll confront him about it. Next chapter. Ria will have her glorious blowing-up time, don't worry, he he he. Paris' pov is my fav in this chapter, you're not so weird. Or we're both weird, but who cares in the end?  
  
Ally: Rory will help him, but how can she for now? things seem rather screwed, aren't they? Continue to read, I hope I don't disappoint.  
  
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Chapter 7:  
  
It was three am and a cold breeze was whistling around the hangar of the Nowhere Kids, blowing in the cracked iron sheets that were blocking the entrances and the broken windows. Ria was sleeping rather peacefully, wrapped in a dirty blanket, but warm and at least not hungry anymore. Knowing that she was safe for now, Tristan left his place next to her and started to wander around. A few other teenagers were up but the younger ones were currently deep inside the realm of dreams.  
  
Tristan climbed the old metallic ladder that was leading to narrow footbridges hanging high in the air. He sat on the edge of one and let his feet dandle over the side. From this spot, he could see the whole hangar and the sky through a broken window near the roof. He sat there for two hours, just trying to shape up everything that had happened in only one day.  
  
"You're wondering why you should go back instead of staying here," stated a voice coming from the shadows below him.  
  
He craned his neck over the footbridge and saw Liam's green eyes staring up right at him. The boy climbed with agility and soon sat next to Tristan.  
  
"I am. Things would be a lot easier for me." He was still fixing the moon through the broken glass.  
  
"Who said things were easier here? Problems are different, that's all. Your life's maybe shit, but ours aren't much better. And your sister deserves better."  
  
Tristan laughed bitterly. "I'm aware of that, she deserves more than I can give her." He shook his head "I just don't want to go back and face that again, I'm tired of it all."  
  
"You know, the only real difference between you and us is that you're alone. You don't have friends that you can trust?"  
  
Tristan's fingers turned in a fist and he clenched his teeth. He very well knew that he had no friend, that it was all superficial and that his schoolmates didn't really matter. People were crawling in front of him to gain a spotlight, girls were doing everything they could to put him in their beds just because of his looks and for their reputations. Yes, he loved playing and manipulating them like this, he loved the power he had on them, the fact that he could crush them if he wanted, but that wasn't friendship. If you're a king, you can't show weakness at any time. You have no heart and you surf on life and its problems with no conscience.  
  
"No," he finally answered in an aggressive tone.  
  
"You're screwed, man." Tristan chuckled without any conviction at Liam's attempt to lighten the atmosphere.  
  
"Hey, why don't you give that girl a chance? The one you talked about yesterday. She wants to help you, right?"  
  
"She can't understand."  
  
Liam sighed and directed his gaze to the ground where people were slowly getting up and lighting the extinguished fires again. "You can stay till lunch time. Then I don't want to see you around here again till you've tried another solution or we won't be as nice as yesterday night, you hear me?" He got up and nearly jumped from the top of the ladder to go and supervise some food distribution.  
  
Tristan watched Ria who was looked after by Alex. The two girls were laughing and running around the place to keep warm. Other kids joined them and soon, the whole hangar echoed with their laughter and cries. Tristan knew that Liam was right. He wasn't allowed to give up and drag his sister down to a life of hunger and cold. He mentally slapped himself for having been so weak and vulnerable these days, for having let Rory Gilmore spot something she shouldn't have and for having even thought of letting go.  
  
He got up and climbed down the ladder. He was ready to go back, ready to face them all again and to hurt them if necessary. Hurt. An image of Paris quickly flashed in his mind but he pushed it aside forcefully. Nobody mattered but Ria. He would save her and he wouldn't need help. The dreadful day was behind for a year, he had come out of it stronger, with sharper iron walls. Yesterday, he was weak and miserable; today, he was burying his heart deeper under the ice. The war was starting again and he would win.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Paris' pov*  
  
What am I doing here? Why am I standing in this street and why am I looking at the light at this window?  
  
Tears are streaming down my face and freeze half way through my cheeks. The pavement is cold and windy and I'm clutching my favourite photo album in my arms. It would be so simple just to get up this alley and knock on the door. There I would be warm and someone would be there.  
  
*~**  
  
"Paris, wait, we have to talk!"  
  
Paris spun around. "No, we haven't. I told you to leave him alone and you were stubborn. He's not here today and I don't know where he is, ok? I don't know because he's not my friend and I don't know because I don't care. Now, if you don't mind, I've got other things to do, some people actually work in this school."  
  
Rory stopped dead in her tracks at this discourse, but grabbed Paris arm before the girl was too far. "You're a liar, Paris Gellar. Maybe you don't know where he is, but you do care and I know it. I saw it when I dragged you out for some drink and when I phoned yesterday evening. I'm leaving you alone, but if you want to talk, you know where I live, right? I'll be there tonight." And with that, she let go of her and turned on her heel.  
  
Paris looked at her receding back for a few seconds before shaking herself awake. She was surprised that Rory told her that and she didn't know what to think of it. What she knew was that she wouldn't go to her house this evening, she didn't want to speak.  
  
**~*  
  
I know that someone would be there for me because Rory said she would be waiting. And I'm here, in front of her house, but my feet don't want to move anymore. My brain tells me to go on and my heart wants me to run away back home.  
  
Suddenly, their front door open and a plump red-haired woman comes out. She's giggling and talks very fast. Another woman comes out behind her. She's got black hair and is tall and elegant. It's Rory's mom, she looks at lot like her. As they start to stroll down the alley, my brain command to my feet to move. They don't. And now it's too late, the two figures come in my direction. The plump woman talks first.  
  
"Hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?" her tone is sweet and caring she doesn't giggle that much anymore. I don't answer and look stubbornly at the pavement. I know it's only a matter of seconds that Rory's mother spots my Chilton uniform. I was such in a hurry that I didn't even take time to change. I was so blinded with anger that I totally forgot about it.  
  
"You're at school with Rory? Are you here to see her?" finally asks her mother.  
  
I'm still fixing the pavement but I find myself nodding. Why did my body suddenly decided to be active again? A hand gently grabs my shoulder and leads me to the front door, I'm petrified, I don't know how I walked there, my heart screams at me to run and take the first bus back to Hartford, back to my little hole where I could either bury myself under work, either torture myself with the past.  
  
"Paris? You ok? Come in." Another hand grabs my arm and pulls me inside the house. Rory makes me sit on the couch and I hear her say goodbye to her mother. I soon find myself with a cup of strong black tea in front of me and a Rory Gilmore sitting next to me, silent and waiting that I speak. I hate that situation, I hate that they found me in a trance, crying stupidly in front of the house, I hate that I'm not in control of myself and of the situation.  
  
"My parents decided that I need psychotherapy." The words are strangled as they come out of my throat, the ball in there hurts so much that I can hardly breathe.  
  
"Why?" Rory asks in a surprised voice.  
  
"Because they say I'm obsessed." I look up to meet her eyes. "They say I can't get over the death of Tristan's mother and over the fact that we grew apart and drifted away from each other." I trail off, remembering last night's party. My voice becomes a whisper, a hopeless murmur. "They decided to have a party yesterday night. How could they? They knew it was an important day and they had a Christmas dinner and dance with people who don't mean anything to them. I got so mad..."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Rory's pov*  
  
I feel disgusted when I hear what Paris' parents have done. Can't they take their daughter's feelings into consideration? What would it have cost them just to postpone the party to the Saturday or Sunday? Would it have changed anything? I let my eyes wander around, I don't really know what to say or what to do so I just stay silent and silence doesn't exactly help. My eyes fall on the album she brought with her.  
  
"You can have a look at it, I brought it for you."  
  
I mumble a thanks and take the album in my hands. It's cornered and it looks old. It seems to be very used, as if the pages were turned all the time. I open it slowly, I'm not sure if I can really look at the pictures in it, if I can look at Paris' life from such a personal point of view. There's a title on the first page, written in green ink in a childish writing, unsure and not very well formed: Paris and Tristan. I already feel like an intruder and I hardly dare turn to the next page.  
  
Finally, I go through the whole book. Pictures from early childhood to pre- teenage years. Paris and Tristan always together. Both of them look different, innocent and oblivious. Happy. I only recognize Tristan because of his appearance. On these obviously treasured pictures, he's not the cocky arrogant bastard that I met from day one in medieval torture chamber; He's a kid that would make the saddest person smile with his big innocent blue eyes. Pacific blue eyes, would say Mom and I smile as I think about how right she was. Not knowing him at all and just judging him from what she saw that day in the mall, she immediately got a clearer impression than me and I see him everyday.  
  
As my trembling fingers turn the pages, I see both their lives unfold in front of me. I wouldn't understand how they became what they are now if I didn't know what happened later on. Even through the oldest pictures I can feel how much their friendship was intense, like brother and sister. Some pages are warped, someone cried on them. Someone who hurt a lot, the same person that is now sitting in my living room. I close the book and stare at Paris. She calmed down a bit and I smile at her.  
  
"I know I'm impolite, but can I stay here tonight?" she asks shyly.  
  
My spirits lift a bit as the words come out of her mouth. I didn't even expect her to show up tonight and now she asks to stay? This is my chance to learn something more about Tristan, the chance to make a friend in Chilton, the chance to change things...  
  
"Of course! But only if you know how to make coffee. We do not accept non- initiates."  
  
"Gilmore, you know I beat you at everything, even coffee-making." She smirks and old Paris is back. I laugh out loud and head for the kitchen; time to check her knowledge in the sacred subject.  
  
.................  
  
It's late now and Paris is sleeping on the mattress next to my bed. I hear her breathing steadily and softly. As for myself, sleep has disappeared to Wonderland. All I can do is think about What Paris confessed about her feelings. How she missed Tristan, how she hated the jerk he had become, how she wished for things to change. How he closed up so much...  
  
He wasn't at school today and I'm still wondering where he was, I didn't have the courage to phone him and have his father hung up on me. I see him and his sister in front of the graveyard again. Ria. It was her birthday, said Paris tonight. I now understand how their mother died and I'm even more impressed with the little girl. How can she bear that? How can't she think that she's guilty? It must be so tough for her.  
  
As those thoughts twirl in my head, sleep comes back unnoticed and starts its work.  
  
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*Alex's pov*  
  
Ria and Tristan have left around midday. I was a bit sad because of their leaving, it was nice to have somebody coming from somewhere talk with me. Now, Liam and I, with some others are strolling down the deserted streets. It's midnight and we're looking for food. We come across a small grocery and I can see Liam smirk in the dark: we've found our target. He seizes the brick he had tucked in his bag before leaving our City and throws it with all his strength in the shop window. A flying shard of glass cuts my cheek but I don't care, tomorrow, we'll have food.  
  
The scattered pieces of window crutch under our feet and we hear someone yell to call the cops. I smile evilly, we're quicker than them, and even if they catch us, we stay silent and as we're underage, they're obliged to let us out after 24 hours. Inside the grocery, we run everywhere to gather what we need. I pile powder milk in my dirty backpack and Liam suddenly shouts the leaving signal.  
  
We start to run, dispersing in the neighbouring streets. Liam and I take a small dead end street but we know that we can jump over the wall and go through some wire nettings to arrive to the City. As we flee, I clutch my knife in my pocket, fearing an encounter with some other street people. My old shoes clack on the pavement and I can hear Liam's shallow breathing ahead of me.  
  
When we finally reach the street where the hangar lays, we spot the cops not far from us. We duck behind a pile of trash and settle down, we know they'll be there for a while. I take this opportunity to talk with Liam a bit, since we're on the streets, we're not as close as before and he's rather busy.  
  
"What did you say to Tristan?" I whisper, trying to catch my breath again.  
  
"Something I hope made him understand that his battle is not lost." He replies while pulling out some stolen cigarettes. I sigh and light a cig. Ria told me what Tristan was doing for her, she told me about how he was protecting her, how she knew he was lying because he didn't want to worry her. I look at Liam who's sprawled on the ground, his backpack under his head. I find myself in Ria, and I hate myself for being such a charge for my brother. He's got his eyes closed but tiredness is written all over him.  
  
I look above the pile of litters and see that the cops are leaving. I shake Liam awake and we finally arrive home. Finally.  
  
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Ok... since my stupid owl ate all the cookies last time, I guess I won't give you some again, but would you be so kind as to review? I need something to cheer me up, my inbox is desperately empty... 


	8. A few thousands steps back

A/N: I'm very very sorry for the delay. I worked on my HP fics and I was very involved in fictionpress.com lately so yeah, I know, they're no real excuses. I also had some writer's block at some point, only on this story, though. Don't ask, lol. And THIS HASN'T BEEN BETA-READ! My beta has some organisation issues lately, lol.  
  
Lostfallenangel: everybody wants to hug Tristan and bash his father's head. If it wasn't the case, I'd wonder if you're normal, he he he. Thanks for the review, hope you enjoy the following chapter, it was really difficult to write for some reason.  
  
Miss Teinge: Yep, that's what I always say... angst's the basis, lol. hope you continue to review, I don't think angst will leave this story ever, so yeah, enjoy.  
  
Janice: God, I never thought it looked like 8 Mile. I've got the movie at home but it's been a while since I last watched it. You're right though, the sibling interaction is similar and the context is as shitty. Life sucks. I hope you're gonna enjoy this story, hope to have your review again.  
  
Dru838: so much praise in your review! Thanks! This doesn't come from personal experience, thank God. I'm very interested in abuse and a lot of my characters suffer from it. No, I'm no pervert, it makes me want to throw up, but before somehow landing in History in college, I wanted to work on that issue. Glad you'll continue reading! Of course I'll continue the story of Liam and Alex! I love them, they're my characters, he he he.  
  
Tori: I know I know, I'm trory obsessed too so I perfectly understand your craving for more trory interaction. It will come, definitively. But not now... I know, I'm a horrible person, muahahahaha. *innocent smirk*  
  
Siaram: I can't believe you missed an update either, lol. As long as you come back, I don't mind. And if I was more regular, you'd know when I post. Blessed were the times when I started my first fic and was able to update every Sunday... thanks for your praise, ,I hope I manage to keep the characters interesting.  
  
Jalna: I'm glad you like my insufferable rambling when replying to reviews, I can't help it. Rory still doesn't know everything, but I like how she's not gonna give up, even if things are rather screwed.  
  
Moi: glad to see you're back, yeah, sorry again for the cookie business... Next time I'll try to find cookies that can reach their destination alone. Right, I forgot to take my lil pills today, lol. We all need trory interaction, trust me... but I'm afraid you're gonna have to work on your patience skills *innocent smirk*  
  
Smile1: as long as you review, I'm certainly not gonna complain! Glad you liked it all, he he he. This chapter is not gonna be your fav, but well, it was horrible to write, words didn't seem to flow, plot seemed stupid. Annoying block.  
  
Coffeechick83: yeah, I shall never forgive you for your lack of reviews, lol. welcome back! Yeah yeah, Tristan will confide in Rory... once. Of course Paris' parents are insensitive bastards. If I remember well, we have a glimpse of her dear mom in some first season ep and when she talks about them, she's never really enthusiastic, is she?  
  
Christie: I continue, I continue. Though not soon, but I hope next update comes faster. *sigh* I really do.  
  
Girldevil: thanks! My writing is not good, but I hope it gets better. Have to kick my beta in the ass...  
  
Aquataine1136: Thanks, I hope you're gonna come back again! *wink*  
  
DitzyChick: nowhere near talented, but I'm very happy you like this story. Yeah, I wondered a long time about including these street kids, especially in a GG story, and then I decided to do the hell I wanted and I don't regret it, he he he. And thanks for the compliments!  
  
Ally: Very happy you went back and now understand everything, I wondered if my chapters were making sense. Lol, Tristan can be very very stubborn you know...  
  
Cara: if you're annoyed with my mistakes, I can let you know when this story'll be posted in French so you can fully enjoy it without the mistakes.*innocent smirk*. No hard feelings, you have to be a lot bitchier to even annoy me a single bit.  
  
Miarae: your review is funny... Ahem, yeah, moving on... sorry for the delay, but very happy that I have you conflicted about my "killerstory" that's the point. *evil grin*  
  
Kellene: totally right, the Nowhere Kids is a song by amazing Smile Empty Soul... I came up with the idea of Liam and Alex when listening to it. *grin* thanks, continue to enjoy and review!  
  
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SOAA 8  
  
Tristan woke up with the sound of the rain pounding against his window. The thick fog and dirty water crashing against the glass and the roof made him want to dig a hole in his mattress and lie there, warm and relatively safe. It was Monday morning, time to face his lies again, time to definitely throw Rory Gilmore away. He rolled on his side and winced at the stabbing pain rushing through his body. Of course, Charles Dugrey hadn't been very happy to see that his kids hadn't come home on Thursday night and had made them understand that pretty easily.  
  
Ria had been slapped a few times but Tristan had protected her from more serious abuse by calling his father names and shouting to divert the man's attention. He had struggled like a tiger to give her time to escape and this time, Charles Dugrey had been taken aback when seeing his son radiating with such strength.  
  
He smirked at the memory of the fight. Oh, he had lost it again; he had a fabulous bruised and cut cheek, his body was sore and the scab covering his back was itching, but he didn't care. Physically, he perfectly knew that he was becoming weaker after each beating. His body had no time to heal correctly and the fact that his sleep was restless didn't help. But mentally, he was becoming stronger.  
  
He had to admit that this week hadn't really been a glorious example of his mental strength but he knew that hitting the bottom had made him bounce again to the surface. He smiled at the thought of the two black-haired kids that had given him this new strength. He knew nothing about Liam or Alex, but he found them easier to trust than anybody composing the higher society of Hartford. They were no angels and life had left its muddy stain on them, but they were soldiers, survivors and Tristan was one too. He didn't want to lose his battle. Not now.  
  
Getting up, he immediately changed in his Chilton uniform. He intended to arrive late, just enough to earn a scold and not a detention, just enough for everybody to see him. He spent a long time in front of the mirror. They all had to know that their king was back and nothing in his appearance should betray his pain, his latent weakness. Of course, he would have to think up an excuse for the bruise, but generally, the others were offering him a way out without even realizing it, by asking too precise questions.  
  
Tristan smirked at his reflection and was happy to see that this particular skill was rather efficient again. Chilton wouldn't even realize that he'd been out of it this past week and everything would go back to normal. The only scary part in this process was Rory. He perfectly knew he would hurt her and even if he had done it in the past, this was different. She had dug up part of his past, she had somehow gotten interested in him, in his secrets and part of him wanted her to find out everything, to tell him things would work out and soothe his anguish. But he also knew it couldn't happen; it was his battle and nobody could help him.  
  


* * *

  
*Tristan's pov*  
  
And here I am, facing my kingdom, facing my lie again. I stroll down the halls with my I'm-just-too-cool attitude back on and my inner walls steady and strong. I joke with the guys, flirt with Louise and then with another girl whose name I don't remember. Who cares after all? As I wanted, I arrived late for my first class and I entered proud and arrogant, my best smirk plastered on my features. They all think I've skipped school on purpose, just to take a holiday; they worship me for being such a jerk, such a model of the rich spoiled bastard.  
  
I'm the centre of conversations. Tristan's back. I feed the rumours by answering their questions with winks and careless shrugs; they crawl and lick my shoes. Power feels good again, I taste it cheerfully. I annoy a few teachers, but receive another A+ in English. I can see envy in my schoolmates' eyes. They again start their little wars to be on my side, to gain the oh-so-wanted little spotlight that will propel them to the top of the pyramid. Of course, I crush their hopes. That's where the game becomes interesting. Seeing them squirm under my gaze, keeping them at a distance. I dominate them, I'm not the one sprawled on the floor for once. And the distance is vital. Never let them come too close, it can hurt, they can hurt. They're just looking for glory and what would be more glorious than shooting me down? I watch my back and savour my power while I have it.  
  
And power doesn't taste sour till I meet Rory's and Paris' path. They're talking civilly to each other, even joking a bit. I don't really know what I will do. I can ignore them, or I can attack them right now. A look at my former best friend answers my question. I'll just ignore them. I just want them to know that I'm perfectly ok and that they'd better leave me alone.  
  
Rory looks at me with a questioning stare. I smirk at her and my eyes discreetly mock her. She sees it and frowns, biting her lip. I know I've just hit her but victory and pleasure doesn't ring in my ears. One could say I'm nearly disgusted with myself. I'm sorry for what I'm doing, I always was when it comes to her. The fact that she isn't a real Chiltonite always tugged at my heart. She is different and it's refreshing. I think I could trust her if I really needed to, she doesn't belong to that world of vultures.  
  
I shake my soft thoughts and continue my walk to Chemistry, leaving the two girls behind. Someone punches a locker and I spin around to see the protagonist. All I spot is Paris stalking in the other direction, rubbing her hand. Rory throws me a sorry look and goes after her. Guilt squeezes my heart a bit. It would be so easy to run after them both and unfold everything. It would be so easy to beg for their help and for their comfort. Too easy. Things that are too simple can have freaking hard consequences and more trouble is not exactly what I need now. I need a good nap while the teacher rambles about his bloody frogs.  
  


* * *

  
*Rory's pov*  
  
"You're driving yourself over something stupid, Ror."  
  
I sigh as I turn from the fridge to look at Dean and Lane. They don't understand, they don't see how important this has become to me. How I made it personal. I slam the fridge shut.  
  
"Why does he act that way? You should have seen him today, he was so-"  
  
"Tristan-like?" chirps Lane while popping candy in her mouth.  
  
I scold at her but I know that she's right. Old evil Tristan was back today. Paris was right when she said every year he was closing up a bit more. There was no flaw in his walls this morning. I didn't see him pick up the pieces and build them again. There was no internal struggle to keep going, he went smoothly and perfectly through the day. Emptily too. I sit in at the table and dig in the popcorn bowl.  
  
"I just wish he would stop lying to everybody, I just wish he would talk and say that he hurts."  
  
Dean shakes his head. "It's not because he lost his mother that he's a martyr. Plenty of people are in this situation and they live with it. Tristan is obviously not very affected by anything and you should leave him alone before you get hurt, because you know he's capable of doing it. Whatever you see in him, he's still a bastard and damn heartless one."  
  
I feel his contempt for Tristan behind his words. And I understand and can't really blame him for that, but all I see is Tristan's eyes on the day I spotted him on that frozen step, all I see is his uneasiness and worry when he saw me in front of the graveyard. His sister's silence when she had been such a smiling little girl only a few days before. There's more to him than a heartless bastard and I can't leave things that way. Even if a little voice whispers at the back of my head 'you're gonna be hurt'. Even if I always claimed that I couldn't bear him.  
  
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* * *

  
*Paris' pov*  
  
I slip my hands in my pockets and turn my fingers in hard balls. I squeeze a pebble in my left hand. It's a plain, elliptic pebble. The average sand coloured pebble that you find everywhere. But this one is not an average one to me. It's for luck. And it's unique because of the painted drawing on it. When we were little, we would go with Tristan's mom on the river's banks and collect all sorts of stones and then we would draw on them. She loved them and we would always give them to her and she would put them everywhere, in the garden, on tables etc. After her death, I came a few times over. I looked for the pebbles and never could find them. Someone had taken them all. All but one that had rolled under a piece of furniture.  
  
I stroke it softly inside my pocket, tracing the patterns with my fingers. A green smiley. With a potato-shaped head and few hair. Tristan painted it and joked around saying it was my portrait. It ended in a paint battle, of course.  
  
The door finally opens and I meet the maid's face. I don't know her, the last one I met was Rose and it was four years ago. Last time I put a foot in this house. She gestures me to follow her; I don't know when I spoke to her but I obviously did. She leaves me in the living room and goes up the stairs.  
  
I look around, nothing has changed. No, it's not right. Something changed, the atmosphere. There is nothing in this room that reminds of life. No plants, no flowers. No family pictures, no half read books. I shiver a bit, my fear increases as I hear footsteps coming toward the room.  
  
"Paris Gellar. Got lost?"  
  
I spin around and find Tristan looking back at me, leaning against the doorframe. He's smirking but the look in his eyes freezes me, he doesn't want me here.  
  
"Why do you do that Tristan?"  
  
He takes a few steps forward and slips his hands in his pockets while tilting his head. "Why do I do what?"  
  
"You perfectly know what I'm talking about. Why do you have to close up and act like a sodding bastard? Why do you have to hurt me like you do? What changed in you that we can't even talk to each other?" I'm shaking a bit and stammer, I'm losing control of my feelings when I face him.  
  
"That's called growing up, Miss Gellar. I changed, you changed, we have different ways of seeing things now. Why do you have to cling to the past? It's no more, face it. Find other friends, I've nothing to offer you, we've got nothing left to share."  
  
"It's not growing up! You changed the day she died, you pushed everybody away and locked yourself in your pain and it killed you!" I'm yelling now, I'm so angry with him.  
  
"Wake up, Paris! Do I look like I'm dead? Do you think I need help? But what for? She's gone and there's no way to go back, why move up memories? I go on with my life, go on with yours and forget about me!" he yells back.  
  
I feel tears coming up so I brush past him and walk quickly to the door. I turn around and take the pebble out of my pocket.  
  
"Are you happy Tristan? Are you? I don't think so. You're a liar. You play the empty and shallow git, like nothing matters to you. But do you really think I saw nothing of your breakdown of last week? I know you too well Tristan, you can't fool me about that. Goodbye, Mr Dugrey, I leave you alone with your secrets and your loneliness."  
  
I put the pebble on the shelf next to the door and leave. I nearly run back to my car and drive aimlessly for hours. First confrontation with Tristan, and even if I knew I would suffer, I pray it was worth it.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Ria's pov*  
  
I slowly walk down the stairs. I heard the whole conversation and saw the girl leave in a hurry. Paris. Tristan never talks about her but when I wait for him after school, hidden in her closet or under his desk, I go through his things. This girl is on a lot of pictures. My brother is messy and never put them in albums, but he's got a box full of them. I didn't know her name and never dared ask. Paris, his best friend. Why don't they get along anymore?  
  
Tristan is in the doorway and is clutching a stone in his hand. He's pale and looks sad and angry. He doesn't even acknowledge my presence so I step forward and put my hand in his.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
He laughs and looks at me. "I always am, Ria."  
  
I shake my head. "Sure, and our dog's called Theodore Roosevelt."  
  
"We don't have a dog, but well, if one day we have, I promise you can call him Theodore Roosevelt."  
  
I scowl. "It's not funny Tristan. She was right, you know. You talk to nobody. You don't even tell me things. I don't need to be sheltered like that and I feel like I'm a burden to you and that I can't even help you."  
  
He sighs and kneels in front of me. "You're not a burden, never say that again. And I know that Paris is right, but it doesn't change the fact that I don't need her help, or her friendship. It would only bring us trouble."  
  
"I know, but-" I want to tell him how worried I am, how I hate how Dad hurts him, how I wish he would have a friend but his gaze interrupts me. I can see in his eyes that he already knows what I was about to say so I throw my arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. He picks me up and tickles me, I can't hold back my laughter. I struggle to get free and start to run up the stairs. He catches me and carries me to his room. We fight a bit more and then collapse on the carpet, out of breath. I crawl in his lap and close my eyes.  
  
"What do you want to know?"  
  
I startle at his question. "What?"  
  
He sighs. "You say I never tell you anything, so what do you want to know?"  
  
I think for a while. I wasn't expecting him to ask me that and questions fill my mind. Where do I start? My eyes land on the pictures box.  
  
"What happened today so Paris came to have that outburst?"  
  
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And this was chapter 8 of SOAA, a melodramatic, angsty, full of grammar mistakes (thanks for the review Cara) Gilmore Girls fic, written by a girl downing tea and cookies (no, I'm not gonna offer you some) in front of her laptop. I'm obviously not pathetic today... *rolls eyes* 


	9. Failure, no other choice

A/N: Hello everybody! I'm very, very sorry about the delay, I was on vacation for a month and I had no time at all to do that. I hope this chapter makes it up for the late posting, though. Oh, and I'm over 100 reviewers. I never ever expected such a response to my story, my betas had to push me so I posted it, thank them!  
  
Spaz: saying my story is amazing is not an immature opinion, just an insane one, but I shall thank you for the compliment, lol. Yes, real Tristan and mine are tied, it's shown when he comes back to Chilton in chapter 8. I will certainly keep writing, thanks for the compliment, it means a lot to me.  
  
Madz: I don't know how you can fill horrible when you ramble so much when sending back chapters! No no, your LS is the best fic, but I don't mind being second behind you, lol. Yes, it's really a success, you know I didn't expect that. Thanks for everything, and especially for encouraging me to post this.  
  
DitzyChick: Thanks! I love my Tristan, lol *drool* he he... Thanks for your ideas. I don't know if I will use them, because I have a few of mine too, but at least, the fact that they resemble yours means that I quite stick to the expectations of my readers!  
  
Ally: I know, Tristan is just so freaking stubborn, it's insane... He he... read on, read on, you'll be interested...  
  
Smile1: ok ok...*holds up hands in surrender* looking back at it, last chapter wasn't so bad. I liked writing what was going on in Tristan's head and make the link with the Tristan shown on the show. Lol, Paris' part was tough to write ,but compared to Ria's pov, it was nothing... *rolls eyes* Still can't belive you're a R/J shipper when Tristan is so awesome. Sry, totally out of the conversation.  
  
Siaram: well well well... I hope this reaches your expectations...  
  
GOOFYGIRL: Salut! Méthodologie scientifique en psychologie? Suuupeeer... et à 3 heures du mat' en plus? T'es pas un peu folle ? He he, moi aussi je peux boire du café et dormir. Trop cool non ? tiens, d'ailleurs, j'crois qu'il m'en faut un maintenant... *twirl*  
  
Lostfallenangel : yeah, let's not forget that he'a sexy before being a bastard, he he... And of course he knows, but he doesn't want to care. So you want some action, huh? Read on, that's all I can say.  
  
Elena7: Hey! I was wondering what had happened to you, you disappeared of fanfiction for so long! Glad I managed to make it believable, it was my biggest worry... See, I update! Hope you will continue to read (and write *hint hint*)  
  
Miarae: I hope you're better now... I guess this chapter will make you happy and sad again, but well, can I really do it another way? Ha ha... you can try to host a list of people... but don't kill him now, I need him to finish my story. Then he's yours, completely *smirk*  
  
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Chapter 9  
  
*Lorelei's pov*  
  
Popping candy is the funniest thing in the world. It's noisy, it's blowing up in your mouth, it's got nice flavours and I'm downing it awfully quickly. And it's awfully entertaining to see Kirk and Miss Patty looking around frantically to find the source of the noise.  
  
And I'm annoying Luke; that's definitively a very, very good point for the popping candy.  
  
Lane dragged Rory to the mall earlier today, followed by a less-than- motivated Dean, so I'm fully enjoying my time. I mean, I don't have to act all serious, I'm not a mom for now! In fact, I'm in 6 year-old mode, but shhh, Luke can't know or he'll deprive me from coffee and insist that kids don't drink that satanic beverage.  
  
Uh-oh, he's looking at me with his brow knitted. I think he saw me talking to myself. Okay Lorelei, smile stupidly, it'll do the trick, he doesn't have to know you're completely off your rocker. So what? It's not because it's so completely true that he has to know, right?  
  
"Lukey, coffee, please. Right now. What, you're still not crawling in front of me?"  
  
I smirk innocently again. Luke looks at me in this way that screams 'You're so infuriating!' and I just love it.  
  
"Lorelei, out! Right now! What, you still haven't obeyed Almighty Luke?" he retorts sardonically.  
  
I'm about to throw something back at him when somebody collapses on the stool next to mine and orders a coffee in a shaky voice. I momentarily forget about the so-called Almighty Luke (huh, Lukey) to see who the newcomer is.  
  
It's Paris. And she looks awful. Her eyes are bloodshot from crying and she looks totally out of it. Luke gives her a cup of coffee without saying anything but she hardly sees it. She's got her head in her hands and looks like she's struggling to just breathe and calm down.  
  
I discreetly push a popping candy pack in front of her and she looks up in surprise.  
  
"Huh, hello. I didn't see you," she says hesitantly.  
  
"I noticed that, thanks. Are you gonna stare at the candy for much longer? Because if you don't want it, it's calling me."  
  
"No more sugar for her, you keep it, please."  
  
"Lukey, I'm sure I heard some mustard pot calling you in the kitchen."  
  
"Impossible, I've gagged them all."  
  
As I hear Paris snort into her cup, I turn to look at her, as does Luke. We try to look offended but it only makes her laugh. Well, at least, she isn't cry anymore.  
  
"You two are childish and immature."  
  
"My dear, that's where the fun is!" I drop the cheery tone as I add "Why are you here? Are you alright?" I know she generally likes to seem tough and from what Rory's told me, she would never let anyone see her broken and down. Yet I've met her twice and both times she was crying her heart out.  
  
She looks uneasy when I ask my questions. She stares at Luke with uncertainty, but still answers.  
  
"I just went to see Tristan."  
  
And obviously, it didn't go very well. When she slept over, we talked a lot about that issue and the more I know, the more horrible I feel. I'm aware that she's hurting a lot because of him. I wonder what he's hiding, because the death of his mother is certainly not the only factor.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Paris' pov*  
  
I talked a lot with Lorelei and that guy named Luke. They cheered me up very quickly and they made me laugh my head off. Then, this plump woman for the other night arrived and started to ramble and now, we're in the Gilmore's kitchen, cooking. I mean, Sookie and I cook and Lorelei looks at us in awe with a paper crown on her head.  
  
We hear happy voices in the hall. Rory arrives and the look on her face is simply priceless at the sight on this kitchen being used. The Korean girl who was at some party is here and the boyfriend, too. Ah, right, they're not together anymore.  
  
"Are you really cooking or just faking it?" asks Rory with her eyebrows raised.  
  
Lorelei snorts and starts to mimic me. "You know, Paris beats you at everything!"  
  
"Shut up," I growl.  
  
"What's that word? Not part of my internal dictionary, sorry. More popping candy?"  
  
Dean and Lane start to clean the table so we can eat there. I can't believe I'm actually going to eat something resembling real food in this house. And I can't believe I was depressed and driving around madly only two hours ago. Popping candy and lunatics are definitely a good highlight to this boring world.  
  
"Hurry up, lazy slaves! Quicker! Bean, my dear, wipe that lazy smile off your face and stop looking at me with the you're-gonna-end-in-a-padded-room look!"  
  
Lorelei raises her flyswatter and smacks him on the arm. He yelps and I can't help but smirk. Which he sees. A popcorn suddenly lands in my shirt a second later and Dean snickers.  
  
"Oh, Paris, he put a popcorn in your shirt! It always happens to me, but it's generally my fault! Baaaad Dean, baaad... as a punishment, you'll have to do the washing up and clean that kitchen till it's back to its spotless state." I hear Dean mumble something vaguely resembling 'of course it's spotless, you don't know how to use it' and burst into laughter as Lorelei starts to chase him throughout the house. Lane and Rory are shaking their head in rhythm. According to my mother's standards, we must be a rather distressing picture.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Victoria, get back here immediately!" barked the angry man.  
  
The little girl continued to run and hid in the hall's main closet. She tried to catch her breath and stop her hands from shaking but her body didn't want to obey. She was terrified and the footsteps were coming her way. She curled up in an even tighter ball than before and tried to hide behind a couple of suitcases. The door was suddenly yanked open and light immediately fell on her blonde curls. The man grabbed them and pulled his daughter out of her hiding place. Ria started to cry; she was panicking.  
  
Tristan wasn't home; it was still early. But for the first time in her life, their father had caught her coming back from school. She didn't know if she had been less careful than usual or if he was being more cautious about his children's moves since they had taken off the other night, but she knew he would hurt her.  
  
She was on her knees, in the hall. Her father turned off the lights so nobody would see the shadows behind the windows, though it was improbable that anybody would enter the garden, and crushed her little hand with his foot. She cried out in pain and let tears run down her cheeks, suddenly understanding what her brother had been and still was going through.  
  
He kneeled in front of her and slapped her with all his strength. It sent her to the floor and he stood up again. He crashed his foot into her stomach and started to yell. To Ria, words were more painful than any fist.  
  
"You killed your own mother, how can you live with that? How dare you breathe? You're worthless! I hate you! I only keep you alive because of the image this family has to maintain."  
  
He picked her up and threw her into the closet again, splitting her bottom lip in the process. Ria saw the door close and heard the key turning. Her screams stopped. She was trapped, nobody would find her. She lay down and cried all of her tears.  
  
She hardly realized it when Tristan opened the closet one hour later, she didn't react when he picked her up gently and held her tightly in his arms, showering her with kisses and trying to comfort her, whispering soothing words.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Tristan's pov*  
  
Ria is hardly responding to my attempts to reach her. She's cuddled against me, but it's more an instinct than anything else. I'm scared for her. God, I panicked so much when I couldn't find her! And then I heard her feeble whimpers and opened the closet. Seeing her like that ripped me apart; made my heart ache so much. I failed, I had to protect her and I failed. I'll never forgive myself. Never.  
  
I hear Dad's manic laughter and spin around. He's here, at the end of the hall, whisky bottle in hand.  
  
"You found her, did you? I knew you would, you always stick for her, traitor."  
  
"Shut up! You're insane; you're drunk. And you call yourself a father? Think Mom would be happy to see what you do?" I shout.  
  
Oh no, why did I say that? My mistake is blatant, he's going completely mad. He throws the bottle against the wall where it smashes into a hundred pieces. I cower and put Ria down in an armchair. As I get away from her, he's already drawn his belt and makes it clap in the air. A shudder runs down my spine as he launches himself at me.  
  
...................................................  
  
I listen as the bell echoes through the mansion and, after a few seconds, I impatiently ring it again. A lone tear finds its way down my chin and to the ground as I realize that she's not here. It's too late; she's gone. I've waited too long. I run back to the car and check on Ria, who's somewhere close to sleeping. I start the engine again and back out of the alley, I don't know where to go.  
  
I know that I could go to the hospital but this mere thought scares me like hell. I hate hospitals, the never-ending white halls; a labyrinth where lives are taken, families are broken, hearts are stabbed. Nobody has ever managed to drag me there since Mom's death; I'd systematically run away.  
  
I've got a fucking headache. I'm sure I've got a concussion. My back is in its habitual state: sore and bloodied. I feel cool blood still oozing from the wounds on my chest and seeping slowly through my pullover. My breath is ragged but I can't catch it anymore, it feels like I'm swallowing fire each second.  
  
As I drive through Hartford, I try to list people I can go to, but I always end up at the same solution. Rory. The thought of her haunts me as I drive to her house. Rory. Will she help me? Will she understand? I've got no choice anyway; I can't do it alone this time.  
  
I find her house without difficulty; Stars-Hollow is a small town. All the lights are on and it gives me courage. I pick Ria up and walk slowly to the door. I pray that I'm doing the right thing as I knock on the wooden panels.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Rory's pov*  
  
We're playing Monopoly when someone knocks on the door. Mom sighs but I can see in her eyes that she's waiting for something to divert our attention so she can copiously dig in the bank. I stand up from my spot on the carpet and stretch briefly before heading to the door.  
  
"Everybody, watch her, she's a cheater!" I call while walking in the hall.  
  
When I open the door, there's a figure standing in the shadows, his face dimly lit with the light coming from the hall.  
  
"Tristan?"  
  
He steps forward in the light and my eyes widen as I see the blood on his forehead, at the edge of his hair; his tear-stained face and Ria's split lip. They look like they've just come out of a terrible fight. I urge him to come in and start to ramble.  
  
"God, what the hell happened to you? Look at you! Are you okay?"  
  
My alarmed voice makes the rest of the crowd come out of the living room to have their fill of morbid curiosity. They're all shocked to see Tristan and he's very uneasy to see that there are so many people here. His eyes linger on Paris, but he says nothing.  
  
Mom finally gathers her thoughts and takes Ria into her arms. The little girl winces at her mere touch and Mom carries her to the couch. She settles down, followed by Lane, but Tristan stays frozen on the spot, looking at the carpet. I look over at Mom as she carefully lifts Ria's sweatshirt. I feel sick as I see the bruises covering her ribcage.  
  
Paris comes to stand right in front of Tristan. "What happened? Why are you here?" she asks in a sharp voice. She then realizes she's snapping at him and calms down. She puts her hand on his shoulder to apologize, but her stare suddenly becomes awfully worried. She takes her hand off his shoulder and sees that it's stained crimson.  
  
Tristan looks even more ashamed than before as I drag him into the better light of the living room. I want him to remove his pullover but he keeps shrinking away from my touch. Finally Dean seizes him by the waist and forces him down to the floor. Tristan struggles, but he's obviously weak. Paris and I strip his pullover while Dean holds him. His arms are bruised and scratched. We finally manage to lift his t-shirt enough to make us feel sick. Tristan stops struggling and buries his head in his arms as Dean lets go of him.  
  
Gashes, bruises, slashes and torn tissue. And blood. We're all shocked at the sight of him. Paris suddenly gets up and runs outside, crying. Dean is now covered in blood and can't even detach his gaze from Tristan. I try to make Tristan talk, I want to know what happened, but he refuses to even look at me. I burst into tears and get up to fetch something to clean his injuries, I feel like I'm going to die.  
  
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::: So... what did you think of it? Things moving finally! OK, maybe not in the happiest way, but still, they're moving... Review! 


	10. Alone, no not anymore but not with you e...

A/N: I assume you're rather annoyed with my never-ending apologizes by now. But I am sorry, I really am. I know I'm screwing up everything, but I don't really care. Sorry, I sound depressed. Maybe I am. It seems Fate has a soft spot for my life, it loves to pile shit on it. Anyway. I sent this to Madz nearly a week ago for beta-reading. She hasn't answered yet but I assume a lot of people are on Easter Holidays. So I will post the corrected chapter once, dunno when. This one is quite short. I thought you would get mad if I didn't post anything and plus, I didn't know what more to write in this particular one.  
  
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Chapter 10:  
  
Yet another bottle smashed against the white wall. Charles Dugrey sank against the opposite wall and rubbed his hands in his hair. He had downed the last bottle of alcohol and he was still conscious, this was a nightmare.  
  
He couldn't get what Tristan had said out of his head. How dared he? How dared the kid mention Angela? He doesn't care about her, it's all for the little freak, the murderer. From the beginning, he'd been on her side, she'd corrupted him. She took his Angela and then, his son. Bitch.  
  
He didn't want to hurt Tristan. But the teenager wasn't Tristan. He was a stranger, he was the protector of the little slug. Traitor. So he hit him. once, then twice. Let the anger out, hurt the devil inside his little boy. Kill the stranger possessing his kid. Hit again and again, the evil is too much anchored in Tristan's body, he has to bleed it out, he has to be purified. Victoria won't claim victory.  
  
When his son is back, then he'll drop the fight. He'll let the freak die and everything will be back in order: Angela will be avenged and Tristan will be back. Then he'll be in peace.  
  
But for now, they had left. Oh, they would come back, they had no other solution. The man staggered to the bathroom and opened the bottom drawer. The pills, a few ones, to sleep, to forget. To wait for the demons to come back. He downed them quickly, hardly thinking and stumbled to his bed. His eyes were already close when his head landed on the pillow. Off to a world where his angel was still with him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Tristan's pov*  
  
They didn't understand. Rory, Paris, anyone. They didn't and I know I can't stay here. It's late now, and they're all sleeping. Me, I think. I came here and they patched me up, they showed care and concern. It was good, warm.  
  
But they insist. They say I can't continue that way, that I have to tell someone. Rory's mom says she wants to call the social services once I get better. So I know I have no other way than leaving. I'm so sorry, it's going to worry them I guess, but there is no other solution.  
  
I stand up gingerly and look through the window. The night is cold and cloudy, the sky is starless. The moon is also covered in the fog. A pitch black night, the realm of the unknown shadows. A perfect hiding night. I softly shake Ria awake and help her dress. I scribble a note to Rory, just a thanks and a meaningless "don't worry".  
  
We sneak outside silently. Ria is so sleepy that I carry her, but the adrenalin of the flight keeps my body working, I don't hurt that much. I drive out of Stars-Hollow quickly and head back to Hartford.  
  
In my head, I wonder why. I'm stupid, I should drive somewhere else, not go back to this hell. But a thought taunts my mind: I don't wanna be alone. I'm sick of it. Besides, a teenager and a little girl on the roads would be quite obvious no? Better keep quiet and in a place that I know. I'm going to leave the car somewhere downtown and then quickly walk away from it. Maybe at the station so they think we left town or something. Yes, would be quite an idea.  
  
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::  
  
And here I am again.  
  
I feel like we've gone back a few days ago, on our first getaway. Ria walks next to me, her hand secure in mine. She now knows, what my plan is, she isn't scared. I roam the narrow deserted streets, hoping I find them.  
  
I turn a corner and smile. The hangar of the Nowhere Kids appears behind the wire nettings. We run and bang on a metallic door. I know it can be dangerous. If someone I don't know answers, I may as well be shot. But Liam's head appears as the door opens. He shakes his head and sighs.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he asks emotionless. I know what he thinks: I haven't tried.  
  
"I tried. I went to that girl and it turned out to be a bad idea. Now, please, help me, I don't have anything else left!"  
  
There's a hint of anger in my voice, I hate how he thinks I can always try something else. Now I know I can't anymore. But surprisingly, he opens the door wider and takes a few steps back to let us in. I grin faintly and he smirks back, we're home.  
  
Alex welcomes us silently but with hugs and smiles. Nearly everybody else is sleeping but a few known heads nod a hello at the sight of me. The adrenalin is gone now so my body aches a lot, I soon fall asleep in a corner. Second night on the streets, and definitely not the last one...  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
*Rory's pov*  
  
We searched the house in the morning, sure Tristan and Ria were somewhere, that they just wanted to change air or something. And then I stumbled upon that note. His message, a good-bye.  
  
I don't know what to think. He came here, he finally came, after all I did to pull him in my direction. And once the shock soothed, we talked a lot. He explained everything, it was so saddening.  
  
Paris was shaking her head, she couldn't believe what she was hearing. She'd known his family for years, she never could have imagined things had changed that much after Mrs Dugrey's death.  
  
Yet they did. I wonder how he was able to go on for such a long time. Like this, especially. I feel a whole new admiration for Tristan. I was completely wrong, he's been so brilliant at holding up the mask.  
  
But now, where are they? Tristan's hurt, it's obvious that there's more than the surface wounds. He was in a rather pitiful state last night, how will he be able to go anywhere?  
  
I take a last glance at the paper in my hand and let it fall on the couch. I shuffle my feet to the kitchen where Mom and Paris are discussing his possibilities. They're phoning like all the people in the Chilton directory but are always welcome with a negative answer.  
  
My mind starts to wander, to roam through nightmares. What if something happens to them? What have I done wrong? It's my fault if they left, I'm sure it is. I feel an oppressing ball in my stomach, I swallow with difficulty, it's like my throat has swelled and it aches.  
  
I wish he was still here.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Michel strolled up the alley with a frown of disgust... he was convinced Lorelei hadn't made a nice one just to upset him and dirty his Italian shoes. Lorelei was always making everything possible to annoy everybody.  
  
He rang impatiently and waited. Rang and waited... Waited... Rang... and started to yell insults in French. A defeated looking Lorelei finally opened the door.  
  
"No need to scream Michel. I'd have opened any time, you're not the centre of the world..." drawled Lorelei while rolling her eyes.  
  
But Michel didn't seem to pay attention to that particular eye movement. "I may not be the centre, but I do not behave like I am the queen of England at least. You were supposed to work this morning. You know, work. That is a word that is pretty commonly used in this country."  
  
Lorelei nearly wanted to laugh at his accent, but she was feeling too bad to do so. And she couldn't believe she had forgotten about work. She never forgot about that, even when there was a serious issue. Confused, she turned on her heels and motioned Michel to follow her.  
  
Poor Michel stepped inside the house and looked around, horrified at the mess. But he actually smiled when he entered the kitchen: clean, white, ordered... Lorelei was going up in his esteem. Not that he would let her know.  
  
"So do you have a valid excuse for your absence? I see you're not sick, your adorable daughter looks like she's functioning normally..."  
  
"It's crisis time, don't you see? A friend of Rory has disappeared."  
  
"I assume they are old enough to take care of themselves. The hotel is old, but it's not human... it needs help, if you see what I mean."  
  
"You are heartless Michel. He might be in grave trouble."  
  
"Wonderful, a delinquent... let the police find him and come to work."  
  
"But Michel, you really have no respect for your own people! This kid is French!"  
  
At that, Michel started to rant about the insecurity children were and how he would manage without Lorelei, and that he hoped they would find that poor kid. He then left precipitately, thinking that his duty was to help Lorelei and do her work.  
  
Rory tapped her fingers on the kitchen table. "Mom, Tristan's not French."  
  
Lorelei's mouth dropped in shock. "Oh my God! He isn't? God forbid, I've just lied to Michel!" she stroke an innocent pose for an instant and made them laugh.  
  
Gave them a bit more courage to go on.  
  
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: ::::::::::::::::::: So yeah... told you it was short. I know a lot of you will ask why we don't have the Rory/Tristan confrontation... well... don't worry, it'll be there.  
  
On the replies now... thanks a lot for your reviews, I never thought this story would stir your enthusiasm!  
  
Alexa: yup, not a good idea of Dean... but he wasn't expecting something like that...  
  
Oreata: well, sorry, update wasn't asap... *sheepish grin* thanks for adding me at your fav's list tho.  
  
Othfan007: heya there. Thanks for the huge compliment. Don't hesitate to email me if you want. Thanks for the email address and all. I'm arranzina@yahoo.com on msn if you have that.  
  
Urnewestbuddy: *raises eyebrow* *blinks* *looks again at reviews* Well... heya, you insane and hyper one. Hope you have fun reading my crap.  
  
Elena 7: of course, I can't resist the sundae, lol. I'm sorry for the delay. I'm glad you started to update your OTH story again tho, he he he. Hope you like the new twist to the plot.  
  
Drey: well well well... I know, I hate when authors stop at a cliffie, so it was my revenge. Njark. He covers them great huh? Well, unfortunately, that's the case of a lot of people...  
  
Lizziej: glad you hate Tristan's dad, that's the point. Sorry to disappoint you with the trory action, he he... Right, you made me think I have to write a Dean's pov... will come soon, I promise.  
  
GOOFYGIRL: mouais, miserable résume pas mal la situation. Ah oui, il est humain... mais franchement, être beau comme ça, ça a quelque chose de pas humain... *drools* Enfin bref, voilà un new twist qui fera scandale à Chilton.  
  
Jessie : ramble all you want, i don't mind. I'm a rambler myself. But I have to remind you this is a AU story. I never got to see even the first season completely (French Tv channels, I SMITE YOU) so I don't like dwelling on things that I can't really find accuaratley on the Web. Hope this doesn't spoil your enthusiasm for my story...  
  
SpiceyGurl: well... sorry to have disappointed yet again. I have a lot of excuses, but it would be rather pointless to list them here. So I just hope you continue to enjoy.  
  
Ally: Dean didn't know how Tristan's injuries were, I don't think he thought they could be bad. And trust Rory to cry... a lot...  
  
Kellene: hope you like my new twist... Sorry for the delay. Yeah, I'm happy I thought of the Ria character, it definitely adds something.  
  
Amelie Cassandra: thanks. Lol, I'm someone over-emotional. Would explain a lot of things. But very happy you enjoy it anyway.  
  
DitzyChick: I don't like stories where Dean is a stalker and a bastard, cuz it's just not him. It doesn't go with his character. Thanks for your enthusiasm, I really try to do my best, even with my twisted English...  
  
Lostfallenangel: hope things are still getting interesting. Hope you continue to read about our poor sexy bastard, lol.  
  
Miarae: take care of your lip hun! Lol, this part was kinda horrible to write... wanna cry for Tristan... Hope you like my last twist.  
  
Siaram: yeah, I'm eeeeeeeviiiiiiiiil... I don't deny it. Exactly, he doesn't want to be alone anymore... see the chapter? He's not alone, he he he... :P  
  
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::: If you still have patience with me, please, review... anything, just a few words. I'm sorry for screwing up like this. 


	11. It's Been So Long

A/N: HI! I know, I know, I left this story dead for so long. I just… wasn't in the mood, to make it short.

All my apologies… hope you still enjoy it.

Oh, and it's not been beta-read at all for the mere reason I don't have a beta anymore. So deal with it. and yeah, it's not very long, but it's sort of a transitional chapter, to let you know i havent given up.

* * *

Chapter 11 : 

Tristan lazily rolled on his side when he felt a poke. He buried his head under the dirty pile of blankets that he was using as a pillow and groaned. Ria and Alex giggled and he felt his little sister jump on him. He silently winced.

"Merry Christmas! Get up! Get up immediately!" she was squealing and tickling him. The boy rolled again and made her fall next to him. He was about to gratefully welcome slumber again when she bit his shoulder.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

He finally got up under Ria's stern glare and Alex's amused stare. The cold air of the hangar made him jump into a spare sweater and jacket and the group headed for breakfast. Liam was already there, chewing on something that probably looked like Golden Grahams once.

Tristan and Ria had come back to the hangar only a couple of days ago. But to them, it felt like they had always belonged there. Ria nearly had no pressure now and her brother was glad for that. He himself, kept a bit quiet, because he didn't know the others and he didn't know how the street tribe used to work. But he was getting accustomed to it and the only thing he really regretted was that he was being trained to steal.

The day before he had stolen a thick jacket and a cap for Ria and during the night , a small group of them had broken into a convenient store. People were too busy shopping for Christmas to pay attention to the kids with their hoods drawn over their faces. Tristan had spotted Louise with her parents and felt a tinge of regret. She represented everything that he had left behind.

Ria stole Liam's plate and finished his breakfast, oblivious to his complaints. Alex was smirking at her brother, as per usual. Everybody knew that the blonde little girl already had everybody wrapped around her finger. She was quite a sight among the dirt, with her shiny hair and her laughing face and everybody had quickly warmed up to her.

Christmas day, New Year's Eve. It passed smoothly. The blizzard was roaring and the snow was making it exhausting to walk around to find food but the mood was still cheery. Tristan dragged his spoon across his nearly empty soup plate and laughed at Alex who was licking her plate. She stuck out her tongue at him and he smiled, trying to ignore the firing pain in his lungs. He wouldn't let that shoot him down.

* * *

The days passed. Winter break came to an end and the search team in the Gilmores' kitchen had found no trace of the Dugrey kids and they had become quite desperate. Dean kept saying they had to call the cops. Lorelei, as someone who experienced running away, thought it was the last thing they should do. Rory would just watch outside the window and wish things hadn't turned out that way.

"Hi everybody! I brought food for you all. Thought you could be a bit hungry with all this stress."

Sookie's presence brought a new little light in the room and her constant cheeriness was warming them up a bit. Tomorrow, school was starting again. Rory was dreading going back to Chilton and not seeing Tristan there, leaning against her locker with his trademark smirk and his little innuendos. She missed their banter more than she wanted to casually admit.

She looked around the kitchen. Paris was heartily chewing on a brownie. Lorelei was trying to build a tower by piling them up and constantly failing.

"Sookie, I already told you a million times, your brownies need to be more square and balanced. They're not the right shape. It looks like a drunk built this tower," Lorelei whined.

"Nah, it just looks like Lorelei tried to play with my brownies instead of being respectful and eating them without questioning their building qualities"

The brownie tower fell once more and Lorelei started to pout while poking the brownies and calling them names. She decided to baptise them all Michel. Michel the first till Michel the sixth to be precise. She then lined them up and executed them one by one, putting chocolate around her lips as she did so.

* * *

_Paris' pov_

Here we are. Chilton. Same old buildings, same old uniforms, same old lockers and same old people running down the halls to go to the gym like it was announced in the intercom. Only, there's a face missing in this crowd and I grow more worried everyday. I walk alongside Rory and the gym is already crowded when we get there. The headmaster stands on some of those gym wooden torture things that I hate, so that people see him. A very elegant man is standing next to him but my fists suddenly clench as I recognize who it is.

If I had a gun, I'd shoot him, right here on the spot. The prince of ice himself.

Rory looks at me in wonder but it doesn't take her long to realize who the man is. There, standing perfectly still and perfect looking is Charles Dugrey.

As the last ones enter the gym, the headmaster silences the crowd. I look to the floor. I don't want to look at him. I don't want my face to betray me.

He starts to speak in a soft, melodious voice. Polite, strong, fascinating. No wonder he fools everyone. I wish I could scream "that guy is an alcoholic asshole who abuses his children!" but who would even dare believe me? I take a deep breath and try to block out his voice in vain.

"Good morning, I'm Charles Dugrey, Tristan's father for those who know him. Two weeks ago, not long before Christmas, I'm afraid my son and his sister disappeared. Whether they ran away for some foolish reason or got kidnapped, I do not know but if any of you has information, I'd be forever grateful. I'm extremely worried about my children. The police have been alerted already but I thought maybe you could help. This is very important. Please."

I put my hand over my mouth to keep myself from throwing up at the fake care in his voice. But I cant. I turn and start to run, shoving people out of my way. I can hear muffled cries and protests and Rory's heels as she tries to keep with me and keeps apologizing to the people I hit.

I run and run. Till I collapse in the hall, next to my locker. My lip trembles as I try not to cry but I don't think I'm very good at that. Paris who's supposedly a cold and heartless bitch keeps breaking down. I'm an idiot.

I hear Rory opening my locker and grabbing my stuff but I'm in daze. She puts my coat around my shoulders and I vaguely register we're walking towards the school entrance. I've never missed school in my whole life and my feet have trouble deliberately leaving the place.

"Come on, I'm bringing you back to Stars Hollow. I don't think it's any good to stay here."

* * *

_Dean's pov_

I yawn as I watch Lorelei still trying to make brownie towers. The school is closed because some pipes blew up and it's so freaking cold in there that I wouldn't touch anything with bare skin. I tried to call Samantha to hang out and put my mind off things but it seems she lost all interest in me. Said she was going to the library. I didn't know the square's bench with Bryan counted as library work.

And Lorelei has the day off. So here I am, spending my time watching a psycho woman sticking out her tongue in concentration and clapping her hands hysterically every brownie she manages to pile up. I suddenly hear well known voices in the hall. Rory and Paris. Hmm. Weird. Neither of them are the style to skip school. Maybe their pipes blew up too.

I get up to go meet them, thanking God for the escape provided. Rory runs to her room to drop her bag and change from her melting snow soaked uniform but Paris is just sitting on the stairs, staring in space.

"Paris, are you alright?"

"He came. That bastard dared come to Chilton and ask for help to find Tristan. It's the first time I wish I could kill someone. Like truly kill someone," she whispers.

She takes off her jacket with trembling hands and I kinda guess that she's going to cry imminently. I silently sit on the step next to her. There's nothing I can really say so I just wrap my arms around her and hug her tight, expecting her to pull away. But she doesn't.

So we just sit there, not making any sound. I can hear Lorelei insulting her brownies in the kitchen and Rory on the phone to Michel, trying to explain to him what "day off" means in a way that he can comprehend.

My mind briefly flies to Samantha, probably still half doing Bryan on the bench. I can just imagine miss Patty passing by now and starting to ramble about how obscene this is. Or Kirk watching them with that "I'll never get this" look. But it quickly comes back. I'm on the Gilmores' steps with a funny, sensitive and smart girl. So yeah… screw Samantha.

* * *

review... please? it'd cheer me up. points to lavender button 


	12. Churchill, Madeline, Pudding

_AN: Hey everybody! Here's my update. Kind of a crazy chapter... I had to restrain myself from the insanity or it would have been even worse and nonsensical. Thanks for reading._

_this has not been beta-read because... i dont have a beta reader. ta da._

_still, enjoy._

_oh yeah... The Who, is obviously not mine. For those of you who don't know it yet, they're a rock band dating back to the 60s.

* * *

Chapter 12_

Luke wiped the counter once more even though it was spotless. He seemed to be highly concentrated on his task but it was mainly because he was trying to block out Taylor's drowsing babbling about how a mashed paper deer would look great in front of the diner as a winter decoration.

His eyes suddenly fell on two very strange kids, who looked like they had "trouble" tattooed on their foreheads.

"What do you want, what are you doing here? I don't do charity," he drawled.

One of the boys shifted on his feet and briefly looked to the floor while taking a crumbled paper out of his pocket.

"We are looking for Rory Gilmore. The address is incomplete."

Luke's eyes became two tiny slits as he gave a better look at the two... specimens in front of him. They looked Rory's age, ok. But they definitely weren't Rory's crowd. Unless Chilton kids were even more eccentric than he thought they already were. And weren't rich enough to shower everyday.

"Luuuuuke."

He dropped the plate on the counter and heavily sighed at Lorelai's entrance, momentarily forgetting the strange teenagers who were still standing there, obviously feeling terribly misplaced.

"No."

"Luuuuukey!"

"No."

He turned his attention back to the boys. "This is Lorelai Gilmore, the manic, schizophrenic and highly dangerous mother of Rory Gilmore. Enjoy your stay."

Lorelei dropped her blue jacket on a stool, sauntered behind the counter to get coffee and a muffin and gave Luke her best hypocrite's smile.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm getting coffee. And a muffin. Don't you have cranberry muffins today?"

He glared.

"Okaaay, so I got choccy chip muffin. And now I'm heading backtomy fabulous stool who's waiting for my beautiful butt to sit back on."

"Which. The stool is a which."

"Luke, don't insult the stool. You already refused to baptise them, now you're not gonna deny them their soul, are you? The stool is a who, end of discussion."

"I didn't know these stools were one of the best bands of the 60s. Is yours Roger Daltrey or Keith Moon?" someone commented from behind them.

The two "adults" turned around to find the black-haired boy smirk and his friend biting his lip to keep from laughing at their antics.

Lorelai gave them a huge grin and reached for Luke's thick black marker. A move that was quickly stopped by said owner of the marker.

"Luke, you know I would never, ever, write anything on your furniture."

"What about the time when Rory said Churchill should have had a table like mine and you decided that it was thus Churchill's new posthumous property so now I have a table named Churchill and the marker wont. go. away."

"There's an apostrophe S so it means it's not the name of the table, just an indication of its ownership!"

Luke let out a deep growl and decided to give up this nonsense conversation about stools and tables and Churchill and pointed to the two kids. "They're looking for Rory. Get yourself out of here and make sure they follow you. I've had enough mentally challenged customers for today."

"Okay, moving. Kids follow. Luke, enjoy your talk with Kirk," Lorelai shouted cheerily, pushing the two kids outside of the diner.

Luke was still trying to figure out what she meant about Kirk when the man crossed the street and entered.

"Talk about mentally challenged," Luke muttered under his breath.

* * *

"Madeline, turn left for God's sake. No, not there. Here. There's a truck coming the other way. Jesus, how many Porsches have you had before this one? Did you crash them all?"

"Where's the statue we're supposed to turn at again?"

"Smooth, subtle change of topic," added Louise while checking her lip gloss in a pocket mirror. "Here's the ridiculous rooster. Turn. Did you know your thirty thousand dollars car is most probably equipped with brakes?"

Madeline shot Louise her dumbest grin and pushed up the volume of the radio.

The two girls found Lorelai strolling down the street, still followed by the teenage boys who were whispering behind her back.

"Hi Lorelai."

"Hey girls, how are you? Paris and Rory are inside, come on in. Boys, keep up or I'm leaving you out there with Babette and her gnomes army. They're a menace to society."

The weirdly constituted group climbed the steps and quickly got in. The smell of cooked food reached Lorelai's nose and her grin widened.

"Paaaaaaris, are you cooking again?"

She ran to the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Dean? Paris? Civil? Cooking? Together? Apocalypse now?"

"I thought I taught you last week how to form three words sentences, Mom; with verbs and all you know," stated Rory from her doorway.

Lorelai dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand and motioned the boys to sit as Madeline went up to Paris to try the food and get an explaination about the morning in school.

"Mom, who's that?" asked Rory while pouring coffee for her and Louise, who had turned out to have the same addiction.

"I don't know."

"Okie, so what are the unknown people doing in our kitchen?"

"They're sitting on our chairs. I thought it'd be nice to have external opinion about how comfortable they are?"

"Mother."

The boys looked around in dismay and decided it was time to explain themselves and get out of the psych ward while it was still possible.

"My name's Liam and this is Joe. And I found a paper with your name and address in the pocket of a jacket of someone you know and yeah… erm… I'm not being very clear, am I?"

"There's mucho fog in London."

Liam blinked at Lorelai and decided not to comment. "Anyway, I found this in Tristan's jacket and thought I'd come here since he's a stubborn idiot and now I think I'm just going to shut up," he rambled on at thirty words per second.

Joe nodded and patted his back.

Paris, however, had already dropped her spoon. "What did you say? You know where Tristan is?"

As Liam was struck speechless with the sauce that had landed on his nose, Louise patted his shoulder. "I would answer if I was you. You don't want to suffer Paris' wrath, trust me."

"Like that time you copied her test and you both got detention?"

"Madeline, shut up."

The guy called Joe shifted in his chair. "Excuse me, may I ask what the hell with the plaid skirts army?"

Dean snorted in his pan as four plaid skirts came to face Joe. "They're uniforms, you ignoramus. But of course, what do you know about that, considering what you're wearing, I doubt you even go to school in Farmland," Paris snapped.

Liam elbowed Joe to shut him up. "Okay, can we drop the kindergarten attitude? It's getting tiring. I'll assume you're Mr. Tristan's schoolmates."

He looked around, making sure everybody had his attention. "Now, as I said, my name's Liam and I'm the so-called leader of a street tribe in Hartford. Not exactly your neighbourhood I would assume. Anyway, he said he'd come here for help and left and he found us again and now I think he's somewhere looking for food with my sister, and don't make me regret coming here, but I'm kinda worried."

Silence followed his speech. "Did you listen to me?"

"Do you always talk that fast? You talk faster than me. That is quite an achievement you know."

Everybody turned to look in despair at Lorelai who was munching on a pop tart.

"What?"

"Can we focus here?"

"But Paris, he talks faster than me! I've never ever met someone who does!"

* * *

"So that's your school, eh?" 

"Yeah, welcome to Hell," smirked Tristan.

"Thank you, I didn't know Satan was into the whole plaid skirt and tie fetish," replied Alex motioning towards two pupils walking out of the building.

"It's a trendy twenty first century torture accessory. The kitchens are that way. There's always plenty of leftovers from the day that they leave in crates outside for the associations for the homeless to pick up."

"Well, we are kind of an association, aren't we? I think I should be president. You can be my butler."

"I'm flattered, do I get to wear white gloves and a ridiculous bowtie or something?"

"C'mon Slave, let's move."

They crawled out of the bush and approached the crates. After having looked around for anybody, they waved for the others to come out and get the crates. They decided to be generous and leave some for other "associations" though.

The sun was now going down quickly and they quickly emptied the crates and put everything in their backpacks before running back to the hangar. Liam was still invisible and nobody had any clue where he was so Alex supervised the food distribution.

"Damn, Chiltonites left us no dessert. How mean of them, really," whined Tristan while digging through the aluminium boxes.

"It was vanilla pudding. And it was disgusting so honestly, you didn't miss anything. However, I can try throw it up for you if you want."

Everybody turned around at the foreign voice and gaped at the new group of people standing in the doorway. Tristan sighed as he spotted Liam's black hair before turning his attention back to the blonde.

"As elegant as ever, Louise."

"Thank you darling."

"I want vanilla pudding. Throw it up." Ria's voice rang clearly in the now silent hangar, and the place was suddenly filled with laughter and made the atmosphere less heavy.

Tristan rolled his eyes at his sister before walking up to Liam who saw the look on his face and decided that the safest place was behind Lorelai who had surprisingly kept quiet up to that point.

"Guys, if you fight, try not to punch my beautiful face."

"Beautiful butt earlier, beautiful face now. Someone's awfully modest I see," snorted Liam while dodging Tristan.

They were circling around Lorelai who didn't dare move or say anything else.

"I trusted you man, and you went to them."

"Oh yeah, and what are you gonna do? Punch me?"

"Explain to me what could possibly hold me back," Tristan gritted through his teeth.

"If you punch me, I'll kick you," the black haired boy smirked.

"Very first grade of you."

"I'll kick you and you'll cough up blood and then we'll have a good reason to seek help."

The circle stopped, much to Lorelai's relief. She was getting a tad dizzy.

"What did you think man? How long did you think you could go on without anybody noticing that you're seriously injured? I took the paper with her address in your coat this morning after I heard you cough all night and found rags full of blood."

"Charming."

"Madeline, shut up," everybody said in unison.

* * *

_Here we go children. hope you enjoyed. i had fun writing this. REVIEW. NOW. Or the vanilla pudding will get you._


	13. When it moves on without you

A/N: Hello faithful readers! So I've had a writer's block but I think I'm sorted now... at least, I hope so. I know this seems sinfully short but it seemed a good chunk so I left it at that. Keep reviewing!

Chapter 13:

Liam looked around wearily. He should not have brought those people to their hangar. It was like placing luminous, blinking sign posts for the cops who had not bothered checking that huge and dangerous depot yet.

He watched Lorelei talk with Tristan. She reminded him of his own mother, with the dark hard and pretty smile. The boy shook the feeling and looked away. He didn't like remembering. The rest of his gang was also watching the newcomers quite suspiciously. They didn't like strangers and they most certainly didn't like adults.

Liam heard a cough behind him and twirled around. The girl with the long blondish hair that had so scarily snapped at him before had his journal in hand. Liam used the old notebook to keep track of their stocks and to jot down information on relevant stores and other places where they could fairly easily get what they needed.

"May I ask you what the hell you think you're doing, going through my stuff?" he snapped at the girl whose name he couldn't quite remember.

Paris looked at him with her infamous icy stare. "You're the supposed leader of this… erm… masquerade?"

Liam took a deep breath, upset that richie-girl was having a go at him and his friends. He could have hit her, but she was a girl.

"I'm just wondering you know. Because your notes lack a lot of information. Do you even know how many people rely on your stocks? How can you prevent stock rupter if you can't establish proper statistics that can warn you when you're running low?"

Liam was sure if he let her, she would change everything around into an elaborate accounting business. Louise, however, chose that moment to intervene.

"Get off his case Paris, he probably hardly knows how to read and write, nevermind make statistics, as basic as they may be."

The black-haired boy tensed his shoulders and his eyes shot daggers to the two Chiltonites.

"You think because we live on the streets we are stupid? You think people like me are necessarily illiterate, useless, worthless bums who reek of alcohol and smoke the ends of your cigarettes? If that's your opinion, please do enlighten me as to why you attend your pathetic charity parties, why you set up associations, why your school gives food away. Is it for your ego, your image or your conscience? Or maybe all three?"

He was nearly shouting now and with his ragged clothes and his hungry eyes, Paris and Louise were starting to see him as downright scary. He had started to walk away when something else struck his mind.

"I don't think Tristan is very different from me. And even if next week he's back to driving a Porsche to school, he'll still be someone who had to live on the streets at some point. So much for being an illiterate, useless alcoholic, eh?"

* * *

"You have to see a doctor", Lorelei tried to say for the tenth time.

Tristan shook his head. He was fine, he didn't want the police or his father to find him. He looked over at Ria, who was avidly listening to Rory and Madeline. He had a feeling that he was up against the wall. Whatever he would do wouldn't save either of them. Who did he think he was? Running away was useless. It was only buying him time. He knew everybody here was buying time. Most of them were most probably researched. Most of them would be back in their families or homes quicker than they thought.

"Talk to me Triscuit!" Lorelei's singsong voice finally reached his brain. He looked at her with a neutral expression.

"Tristan, I can't help you if you don't tell me what happened and how you feel. I don't think your friend would have ratted you out if it wasn't important."

The teenager snorted in disbelief and focused his eyes on the truly fascinating ground. Lorelei sighed and looked around. She was a bit freaked out, in all honesty. Not only was she in a part of Hartford she would never have thought she would visit but she was there with a whole gang of street kids that she still couldn't quite believe existed. She had doubts before but now she was truly wondering what were the police doing. Hartford elite suddenly seemed Heaven. She promptly smacked herself for her last thought and smiled sweetly at Tristan who was looking at her like she was truly bonkers.

"Tristan, tell me why you ran away from Stars Hollow. You really scared us all."

He sighed a shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm sorry," he eventually muttered.

"Don't be sorry hun, just explain it to me."

"I don't want them to take Ria away."

At first, Lorelei wasn't sure that she had understood properly because he spoke so softly but it made sense. Everything suddenly seemed to fall into place.

"They would send you to live with other family members; they wouldn't separate you two."

The boy sighed. "My grand-parents are dead. My mother's brother lives in Japan and already has four children. My father was an only child. As for the rest of the Dugrey clan, they hare not related to us closely enough to have any obligation or interest towards us. As a matter of fact, it was already a hassle for them to spawn heirs, so I doubt they'll want to bother with children they don't need."

He had a point, she knew it. She knew how elite families functioned, she knew all too well that most of them didn't exactly have tight family bonds. But she was set on leaving this place with two more kids than she had arrived with.

She was deep in reflection when she heard his fit of coughs. It was sure as hell as scary as Liam had said. He tried to subtly wipe off the specks of blood with his sleeve, but the dark-haired woman had seen anyway. She yet again changed strategy.

"Okay Kiddo. You are scared, you are possibly angry and you don't want anything to do with me. However, now I'm going to grab your arm, get you into the keep and to hospital. IF you get away, I'll call the cops and tell them everything I know. About you, and about everybody here. Got it? Excellent."

Before he could react or even process her worlds, he was in the car, Ria next to him holding Rory's hand and Paris in the front seat. Now that the drama was mostly finished, Louise and Madeline ad quickly departed, the atmosphere of the depot being too heavy and miserable for them. Paris had rolled her eyes but she had been genuinely surprised when the two girls had expressed their concern about her and made her promise to call them soon with news.

The rest of the kids watched them leave gladly. Except for Alex, who was already missing her little friend and Liam, who was turning the whole story in his head over and over again.

* * *

Night had settled down on Hartford. It didn't mean the city was less busy. It only meant that even though Charles Dugrey was straining his eyes to see outside the window, he couldn't discern anything but the imposing gate of his property.

"Mister Dugrey."

The voice was patient but he could recognized the well-trained intonations of someone whose job necessitated such skills. Just like him. Nothing was supposed to show through it. It was plain, sure, patient. Not too soft, not to strong. It was sickening.

He focused on the carvings of the gate. He didn't want to acknowledge the voice. Even though he knew he would eventually have to. That kind of voice never gave up. It would get what it wanted from him. It was only a matter of time.

"Mister Dugrey, I know this is a hard time for you, but we need answers to these questions."

He finally turned around to face them. All of them with their trained voices. The two cops and that woman who was staring at him intensely. Social services, she had said when she had shaken her hand. She had looked at him suspiciously from the beginning. Evaluating his every move and word. But he was trained too. He could fool her with a charming personality. Two could play a game.

"You have children, Miss? Do you actually know that it is a hard time? Or is it one of these well-rehearsed psycho- babble sentences that you learn off by heart during your training? My kids are lost."

He nearly smiled. He was good. He was really good.

"Mister Dugrey, you have to understand that I need to gather this information. It is the normal routine in such a case. I will also need to have a look at the kids' rooms, in case there is anything there that could help us."

"Look, I do not know why my children ran away. My son has been quite disturbed since his mother's death and yes, maybe, maybe I was all too willing to put it on the account of teenage angst. Maybe I didn't take it seriously enough. Maybe I didn't manage to communicate with him well enough. But for crying out loud, shouldn't you be out there looking for them instead of bothering me with administrative garbage?"

He knew the social worker was slowly but surely losing her patience. And it kind of amused him. It was like poking at his employees. Shoving their mistakes in their faces and that kind of stuff and playing with their nerves. It was a quite satisfying activity.

She suddenly slammed her folder on the marble table in front of her. He slightly jumped at that. He wasn't expecting it. He thought she'd be smoother about the whole thing, to try and corner him. It's what she had been doing and he was sure he had her strategy worked out.

She stood up and pointed to the blue folder. "Do you know what this is, Mister Dugrey?"

He shook his head, at loss.

"These are the accounts of your neighbours. They said they heard not so nice things coming from here. Shouts, furniture crashing. Kitchen ware and ornaments breaking. And don't tell me it's the television, it's a trick older than you."

The aristocratic man could feel the colour drain from his face. He had the impression his cheeks had gone pale white, frozen. His brain started to reel. He was thinking about the alcohol in the cabinet, about Angela, about how his life had crashed down one snowy winter night years ago. He felt the cops staring at him but he couldn't care anymore.

The woman sat back down. "Of course, we do need confirmation of such events from your children but I don't think you will be able to see them for a while after we find them. This situation needs sorting out. They will be placed in temporary families until the case is brought in front of a judge."

She stood up and wiped invisible dust from her perfectly pressed skirt. "Good night Mister Dugrey. I shall meet you again very soon I expect."

He watched them leave from his spot at the window. He hadn't moved since she had showed him the folder. He couldn't move. Everything seemed a blur, a nightmare. What was to happen now? Where was Tristan? What would he say to the social services? What would Victoria say? He needed a drink. A very strong drink. He also needed to call his lawyer. Nobody would take his son away. Angela would never have allowed it. Ever.


End file.
